Enigma: The Edge of Reason
by urbanlegend
Summary: An outcast femme Seeker is torn between her past and her present as she balances the fine line of Autobot trust. Her voice of reason? A edgy Arcee. Update: Enigma begins to face her past. Things are a little too close for comfort.
1. Introductions and 1st day on the job

_Heatseeker is dead.  
_

_Given a second lease at life. How many beings are that lucky? Not many. Specially not war mongering Decepticons. Designed to fight, built for battle, it's in their core programming to battle against something, anything. A life without strife is a life not worth living in their minds. _

_That's me. A Decepticon at heart, but an Autobot in mind. Ousted by my own faction for treachory, I was saved by the very side that I fought to destroy for millennia after millennia. I wear no faction insignia, no badge on my body. I pledge allegiance to no one. But after my "salvation" of sorts, I believe that I will only rest when the fight is beat out of me. When the battle for peace is one and every last other Decepticon puts down their arms and for the first time in most of their hateful lives try to live a life without war._

_I am a faceless warrior. A mysterious black phantom in the sky. A dark shadow of death following those that need to be found. I still live true to my design, my build. I hunt and I kill. It's what I'm good at. Only now I kill for the peace of coexistence. I feel that this is a more honorable side to be on. I no longer fight under the command of tyranny but that of a leader who exudes compassion. I may not wear the red symbol on my chest or wings, but In my mind, I know where I stand. This wasn't a side that I chose, but a side that chose me.  
_

_Not all of the Autobots trust me. Not completely anyway. Most of them don't know where I came from. Don't know who I was before. I prefer it that way. But still, the presence of a Seeker, even a Seeker of new design, is unsettling to many of them. Though I look slightly different than those that they are used to seeing, it's obvious what I am at the core. I'm not ashamed of it. Part of me is still proud, I'm just mad. Hey, it happens. _

_This story picks up after my salvation at the hands of the Autobot femmes and Alpha Trion. Well after my reconfiguration courtesy of the ancient mech __and after Megatron's decree to destroy or imprison every femme old enough to fire a weapon__. Arcee and I, well, we got a bit antsy and decided to head back to the danger of the war on Cybertron. Hey, fun is fun even crazy fun._

_Its not my intention for this story to be about girls and Transformers, it's not about fluffy love, happiness and life being swell following some sort of tragedy in which the human heroine is rescued by some Autobot on the side of the road and nursed back to health. If those are the kind of stories you're looking for, then stop reading now. Go back a page, there are over 4,000 stories about that exact sort of thing to keep you happy. _

_I don't mean to insult you buy stating that, it's just that this is a different type of story. It is about death. It _is_ about being saved by Autobots but not as you'd expect or have grown to be accustomed to by most stories. Love _was_ involved. I stress was because now, hate and anger have taken it's place. Revenge plays a big part in it. So if you think this may be a woman scorned story, it does have those elements but they are not the backbone of it. The revenge I want is more encompassing than one mech. More encompassing than one spark. It's against a group, an idea. _

_This is who I am after the "tragedy" that finished off the first half of my life. If you aren't aware of what happened or who I am, then I recommend you read about my "Betrayal Becoming" before you continue onto this story. You know... to have a better understanding of who I am. I_

_I am Enigma._

* * *

Cyberton, shortly after the fall of Iacon: 

"You need a reconfig." I bellow out as she storms off.

"No I don't!" She's so mad right now. Arcee can be one of the most hard headed femmes in the galaxy, I'm sure of it. "I'm fine the way I am." Her voice echoes back as she turns a corner down the hallway.

"'Cee! Wait up." I'm chasing after her. It's moments like these that I think I may understand why Megatron made that decree. Femmes are difficult. The only question is how did he know? Last I remember, his only bitch was the same one I played bitch too. Starscream. Yes, that's right. I said it. Starscream is his bitch. I wish you could see my smirk right now.

I turn the corner and she's no where to be seen. Damn that femme is quick.

Arcee and I met back in my Decepticon days. We didn't trust each other very much but can you blame us? Well, actually, let me rephrase that. _She_ didn't trust _me_ more than I not trusting her. I didn't blame her a bit. My last day wearing that purple insignia on my wings, she followed me. Shortly before they came after me to teach me what treachery will get you, I literally shoved her out of a door to safety. The nutty glitch came back looking for me only to find my aft broken and torn, hanging in quite the macabre from a statue in one of the most beautiful structures still standing in Iacon at the time. Like the rest of the city, it too is now rubble.

"'Cee!" I finally catch up with her only to be greeted with a glare that pierces my spark. Primus, she can shoot some deadly looks. "Cee. I'm sorry. It's just that, I want you out there but I think they're going to single you out. If anything happened..." Begging is not one of my better skills these days.

"E, I'm fine. Heck, by the time I'm out of there, they won't even know what hit them." She's right. She's quick. Too quick at times. But that still doesn't make me feel any better. She's my closest friend and I'd be lost without her. This war is taking it's toll on all of us. I see it in her every day. I on the other hand, have always been this morose.

"Look. I'm just saying..."

She cuts me off before I can even continue. "I know what you're saying, 'E. You _had_ to do what you did if you were going to survive. I don't. I'm happy like this. Please understand that."

She's half of my size but now I feel as if I'm just a quarter of hers. I hang my head and mumble, "I do understand. I'm sorry." We're such a goofy looking team. The tiny pink femme and the big black femme. The odd couple. The only femme's crazy enough to come back here right now. We face death, we face imprisonment and as a possiblity, we do face worse. Only one of us has looked worse in the optic and lived to tell about it. I never tell about it. I keep it inside, buried deep. I only want to protect her from that which almost killed me.

I feel a hand on my arm. I look down to see her giving me a grin that says all is well. I shake my head and laugh. "I'll see ya later then."

"Yep." She waves and walks off. I stand in the middle of the hallway trying to decide where I want to go next.

* * *

"Damned Seekers." A voice growls as I walk into the room. 

"_I_ didn't do anything." I raise my hands up in defense.

"I'm not saying _you _did. But yer extended family did." Ironhide has the most fitting name of any mech I've come across in all 3 million metacycles of my life. He's a grumpy, old battle worn mech with metal skin a mechanometer thick. He hates Decepticons and I'm still trying to figure out why he allows me to be within an arm's distance of him on a regular basis. He's one of the handful of Autobots who know my history.

"Don't group me in with those bastards." I roll my optics heavenward. Ironhide laughs at my obvious irritation and gives me a wink before continuing to grumble to himself.

"Most 'Cons just try to kill ya and get it over with. Those damned bastards like to toy with you. Why?"

Can't I just move on from that point in my life? Guess not. "Programming, Ironhide. Core programming. We don't know why we just do. Hell, I do the same to any Decepticons I come across." I do. I love to taunt my prey. Toy with them. It's sick, I know, but it adds a pinch of fun to the job.

He snorts at me while he messes around with yet another gun that needs to be modified, modified and modified again until it's nothing more than a portable cannon. He's trigger happy. He can be _very_ scary at times and I've faced Megatron in a bad mood more times that I care to remember as well as Shockwave. Well, Shockwave is just that, Shockwave. That one eyed, walking gun of a computer is just scary period. Your day to day existence is always a gamble around the one eyed, two antenna having, purple mech killer. Anyway, I sit down on a stool and watch carefully as Ironhide tinkers with the massive gun on the table top.

"Isn't that Cliffjumper's gun?" I'm looking at the size of this thing and trying to compare it to C.J. It's going to blast the smaller red mech into the next region the first time he fires it.

"Yes."

"Isn't it... uh...sort of big?" Uh oh. Shouldn't have asked that. Never question Ironhide's work. EVER.

I can feel my armor buckling from the heat of his glare. I'm not apologizing. I'm too stubborn. Instead I give him an audio receptor to audio receptor grin and add in a quick, "maybe not?" just for the insurance that I can still live to walk out of this room. I vow to not leave until he does and to make sure I'm behind him as I do so.

"Shut it ya flying target or I'm using you for practice next." He's in a good mood today. I'm lucky. Whew.

Ironhide puts the massive gun down with a huff and calls Cliffjumper to come and get it. He turns back to me,"Gimme yer arm."

I give him my right arm.

"Yer _other _arm." He narrows his optics at me.

I give him the left.

"Gun."Lord he is bossy when he's working or any other time for that matter.

A panel opens up on my left upper arm from which a long gun appears. I have two but I only shoot with my left. I prefer to use my right hand for strangling the living daylights out of whatever unfortunate 'Con tends to be at the end of it while introducing him to the business end of my gun in the most up close and personal manner possible. Yes, I am that twisted. Hey, did I not just say that Seekers like to mess with their prey?

Ironhide reaches for his tools and sets to work on modifying the gun. This on is bigger than my last and not part of my lower arm and hand like my last gun was. This gun is actually capable of disabling the enemy. My last would just stun them if anything. We're trying to make this one capable of killing with one hit.

Silence is normal for me. Talking is a privilege I only use with those who know me best. About a cycle goes by before he speaks up again. Between his massive fingers, Ironhide holds a black box and an oblong purple object. "This," he holds up the purple thing, "Is a model of an explosive photon round. Traveling, it will look like this." He manipulates the model with both hands until it appears to balloon out at the tip. "Once it comes into contact with metal or another solid object and _only_ if it manages to pass through, it will expand. Tendrils of super heated photon energy will encompass it causing it to wreak havoc by shredding the internal components of whatever it enters. It's a dangerous little bugger. You won't have many so I suggest using it only as a last resort and from from a distance."

"That is wild." Is all I manage to blurt out while he finishes installing the generator and connecting all the wires.

I watch as Cliffjumper finally shows up and gets his gun and I barely listen as he and Ironhide have a short conversation. I really wish that C.J. would stop distracting Ironhide because right now, I'm not exactly feeling a tickling sensation. Ironhide is connecting the wires which is quite painful with each solder that is completed. "OW!" Yep, pinched.

"Aw come on. That was just a little pinch." He teases me. Finally, Cliffjumper leaves. Ironhide laughs at my discomfort. He can be a bastard sometimes but ya can't help but like the mech. "Alright. Finished."

"Soooo no practice with this bad boy?"

"Nope." Grinning that slag eating grin that usually spells trouble.

_Stop being so smug, Ironhide_. I think it. I don't dare say it. There's no flying indoors and I think that's the only way I'd be able go get away quick enough. This is my mentor. Ironhide. He's the only other mech I know of that goes hunting for 'Cons while armed to the teeth. He treats every little skirmish like it's all out war. Gotta love it.

* * *

I have no side. I have yet to fight anything other than out of self protection since I've been reconfigured. For all intensive purposes, I'm an independent. That won't stop Decepticons. Hell, they've been known to attack neutrals just for fun. If anything I'm a target. So that's what I'm doing sitting in this room. Getting a new identity. 

"Something that'll allow you to travel unimpeded. You're unique understanding of their side puts you in a privileged strategic position. " Wheeljack hasn't looked up from the computer in ages. I just continue to rest my head in my hands and wait. When he starts brainstorming, all you can do is sit back and watch his genius in motion. I stare at my feet for what seems like an eternity when he finally breaks my bored concentration.

"Here. Finished. It's back dated and everything. Read it and tell me what you think."

I raise my head and look up at the monitors and screens seeing my own image. Side by side stands a engineer's draft of my robot mode and my alt mode are on the screen. Above that is a picture of my face with my shields in place. Just a blank nothing staring back. This is my description below it all:

Designation**Enigma**  
Status:_ In service_  
Service No_: Classified_  
Faction_: Indepedent_  
Primary Duty_: Bounty Hunter_

Wait. What? What did that just say? Bounty Hunter? Are his circuits fried?! "Wheeljack?" The tone of my voice is enough to raise alarm but he stays cool.

"Enigma, just wait. Read on. I'll explain it when you're done." He's just too relaxed sometimes and too excitable at others. This is obviously a relaxed day.

I glare at him and continue to read on.

Secondary duty:_ Unknown_  
Gender Classification_: Unknown_  
Platform:_ Seeker_  
Initial Online date_: Unknown_  
Creation Matrix_: Creator Unknown_  
Location:_ Unknown_  
Weaponry:_ Classified under Cybertonian Armament Directive no. : 12BZ887AA78- OI. 89._  
Skills:_ Classified under Cybertronian Armament Directive no: FRZ6782223X- PT. 12-3_  
Special abilities_: Classified under Cybertronian personal data records privacy directive no. 8999Q89H.12.42. Y_

Speed:_ 9_  
Intelligence_: 7_  
Strength_: 6_  
Weapons_: 7_  
Agility_: 10_  
Skill_: 9_

Notes_: All info regarding this individual are classified due to nature of primary duties. All information is protected under the regulations and directives set forth by the Galactic Security Ministry on date 388973.81 . Identity is protected. No known history is on record. End note. _

"Interesting. You created a whole new me." I'm truly shocked.

"Just one thing, Enigma." Uh oh, Wheeljack has that 'you're going to want to hurt me' sound in his voice. That means he left out a very important fact.

"Yesss?" I ask. I like Wheeljack. The mech is nuts and always seems to come up with some new fangled toy. Being a former scientist myself, I can appreciate his creative nature. Scientists are like artists in a way. We create functional art that betters, or worsens, society. Depending on your view.

"You'll need the mark."

"The mark?" Oh boy. I remember getting branded when the Decepticons finally found a badge to put to their name. That hurt. Thank Primus I was off lined when Alpha Trion reconfigured me and removed those things. Metal has to be removed, melted and remolded to you to do it. Sensors cover almost every metallic cell of our bodies. The pain is unbelievable.

"Yes, bounty hunters were a blue symbol on their chest and right arm that denotes what they are. It works as a license. It is going to hurt." He sounded reluctant to add that last part on. Pain is something I've grown to live with but branding pain is a lingering, annoying, aggravating, hateful little sensation that burns deeper than it shows. All for the good of it. I nod. He shows me a picture of the odd, thin, alien looking symbol that is blue. "Ratchet will have to apply it soon."

"Great." I mumble into the air and get up to follow him down to Ratchets medical bay.

* * *

"GGrrrreeeeeeeeeeghh." I grunt and groan as the laser brands me with the Bounty Hunter symbol. The little bugger doesn't sting it sears! But it just saved my aft. Bounty hunters are expected to always cover their faces, disguise their voices and to hide their true identity. Perfect for me since that's what I do all the time anyway. This little gig may have just saved my aft. WhhoooT! For me. 

"I thought Decepticons are all about pain?" Ratchet raises an optic ridge at me. He has such a dry sense of humour.

"Not right now, please." I'm huffing the pain away. At least thats the sound coming out of my vocal circuits "huff, huff, huff."

Ratchet chuckles and doesn't try to egg me on any more. I hate brands! "Wheeljack, what happened to my old profile?" I'm trying to break my concentration on the annoying pain in my arm and on my chest.

"It has been updated. Not by me though. I suspect one of your former colleagues did it."

Hmm.. .Soundwave. "Show me." I growl still clutching my arm which is clutching my chest. He brings an image up on the computer screen at Ratchet's work station and there it is. Old me in all my fiery red glory.

Designation**Heatseeker**  
Status_: Terminated_

"fragging sons of glitches..." I mumble to myself.

Service no_: ZZ90887.23.SS.2_  
Faction_: Decepticon_

_See archive for further information. _

"Archives?" I ask curiously.

"Yes, Enigma. You well, old you, are history." I guess that Wheeljack is smiling. I can't tell since he doesn't have a mouth. One can only go by the expression in his optics.

"Can you bring it up please?"I'm really curious as to what it says. I've never seen my own file.

"Yes, even I have got to see this." Ratchet takes a seat on the other side of Wheeljack while he takes that blasted laser apart cleaning it so it can be stored.

"It'll take a breem or two." Wheeljack starts typing away and I wait patiently by his side. "Alright..." I look up at the screen again at the info that has appeared there.

Designation: **Heatseeker**  
Status_: Terminated_  
Service no_: ZZ90887.23.SS.2_  
Faction_: Decepticon_  
Primary Duty_: Air Defense Alternate_  
Secondary duty_: Intelligence analyst_  
Gender Classification_: Femme_  
Platform_: Seeker_  
Initial Online date_: 144667.32_  
Creation Matrix_: Starscream , creation category-1AS43_  
Location_: Vos Research center Alpha. _  
Weaponry_: One low level multi phase photon cannon, 2 Tail mount energy swords, 26 armor piercing knives._  
Skills_: advanced linguistics, expert code breaker_  
Special abilities_: level 1 telepath_

Speed_: 8_  
Intelligence:_ 7_  
Strength_: 5_  
Weaponry_: 6_  
Agility_: 9_  
Skill_: 9_

Notes:_ Former scientist and lifetime apprentice to high ranking Decepticon Air Commander Starscream, Heatseeker is believed to still be under his direction at most times. Individual is wanted for crimes committed during the early formation of the rogue faction of Decepticons to present. Wanted felon. Considered extremely dangerous. Crimes include: Armed robbery (accomplice), first degree murder (accquited), 2nd degree murder, kidnapping (accomplice), forgery, accepting stolen goods, trafficking stolen goods, obstruction of justice (3 accounts), Assault (multiple accounts), Assault with a deadly weapon (multiple accounts), Impersonation of a state official (accomplice), Vehicle theft (accomplice), Treason. _

_Update: All charges drop due to termination of Individual. _

Wheeljack is staring at me in disbelief. I smile at him awkwardly and point towards the screen. "See this?" I point at the listing for Creation Matrix. "I was just following him. Okay, well... not always, but..." Okay, I'm stuttering now as I attempt to backtrack." You see where I got it from." I whine in defense. Yes, I whined. As unattractive as it is. I did it. At that moment, reconfiguration or not, I know who I looked like. I'm almost too disgusted with my self to believe it.

"That's um... quite a rap sheet you had there, Enigma." Yep, I can hear the disbelief and shock in his voice.

"Starscream?" Ratchet hasn't taken his optics off of the screen yet.

Branded for life in more ways than one. "Yes, Ratchet. I'll elaborate some other time." A silence falls on the room and I can feel two pair of optics boring into me. I feel smaller than a turbo fox right now.

"I've learned a lot since those days." I look down at my arm and trace my fingers over the brand that is there. "I'm going to go now." I practically leap up from my chair. Awkward silences make me very uncomfortable.

"Enigma," Wheeljack calls as I pass through the door. I turn around to face him, my face contorted in embarrassment. "It's all in the past." His optics are smiling again. I smile back and then continue to walk down the hall.

* * *

"What in creation is that?" Arcee points up at my chest with an almost accusatory tone in her voice. 

"The mark of the Bounty hunter." I say rather nonchalantly. We're in our gym. It's a homemade dojo actually. I need to practice some knife work and she has offered to help. I really wish I had someone my own size to do this with but 'Cee will have to do for now. What she lacks in size and strength, the half crazed femme makes up for in speed and skill.

She drops her sword and gives me a look that just screams 'what?!' "A Bounty Hunter? How random is that?"

"Hey, it works okay. Think about it. That gives me access to their side and I have diplomatic immunity."

" Oh, 'E, come on." She puts one hand on her hip and the attitude is just radiating from her. I think she just turned a deeper pink, "Diplomatic immunity? You out of everyone ought to know that that means nothing to them."

"It sounds good." I have no answer for that because I know she is again, correct. I think one of my logic circuits got knocked loose during that attack and Alpha missed it.

"Yep. It's official. You've lost it."

"Shut it and fight me femme." This is normal. This is our friendship. Brutal honesty with a touch of anger. It's really the only way to go if you ask me. We have a blast.

* * *

"Hey check this out..." It's me and the 'Cee again. She hands me a data pad upon which a mission is posted. "Came across in the system today. The new bounty hunter in town has her first mission." She giggles at me while I press my lip components together in a scowl. 

"Is this a joke?" You can never be to sure.

"Nope."

"Kaon?"

"Yep."

"The fortress?"

"Uh huh." Primus, I think I just saw Arcee smirk. Too funny.

This is when I start to laugh hysterically. Apparently, Swindle is missing. That doesn't surprise me one bit. Even more so, he's managed to piss someone off in the mean time. That Someone being a rather irritated, yes even this is possible, Soudwave. I cannot let this one slip through my fingers. I hate that little turbo weasel. It'll be my pleasure to bring him kicking and screaming back to Mr. Personality.

"I know exactly where to find the little punk. I accept." I hand Arcee the data pad back and get up from my chair asking her, "What are you going to do?" She sits down where I had just been sitting a moment before. I'm hoping that she doesn't say "coming with you." I do not want to take Arcee into Kaon and I feel like arguing with her about it even less.

"I'll think of something." Her response is flat. She's not happy but I'm not going to fall into this trap again.

"Okay. I'll see ya when I get back." I high tail it out of there before she changes her mind.

* * *

Kicking and screaming is exactly what that little lying bastard Swindle did as soon as I found him. He was hiding out at a safe house in Pylar 3. One of the neutral sectors that are more Decepticon than neutral but full of riffraff that are too unfit to lead, follow or fight. They're left to their devices but do react quite well to coercion. 

This is my job. I find those who don't want to be found. If they happen to be 'Cons, well, I just act observe and report back what I saw. For repayment, I don't get killed. Fair enough if you ask me. I haven't actually found a way to get a repayment that doesn't turn my reservoir so for now, living another day is just dandy.

Maybe I was a little to rough on old swindle but using my own version of a null ray gun seemed to work perfectly. I'm lucky I found this gun. It's small and hand held, but it'll work. I've got the little twerp restrained with energy bands. He's not breaking away any time soon. I have what they want but dammit, I need a service ship. Yeah yeah yeah. I know, I'm a Seeker, what do I need a ship for? I'll tell ya. Prisoners it's that simple. Barely any of them are small enough for me to transport on my own. I have to walk this metal monkey back to Kaon. Hey, there's a thought... most of the service ships are under Decepticon control... Hm. I'll have to work up to that.

"That null ray hurt like hell didn't it?" I have to add insult to injury, it's just my nature.

"I've felt worse." He cracks back at me.

"Really? Did you cry that bad when you got hit with it or did you just pass out from the pain?" Ooooh, the glare I get for that one is priceless. I should have recorded that moment.

Old Swindle stays as quiet as quiet can be on our way back. The occasional "I'm tired" comes from him but not too many to make me want to torture him any. I have to admit I was tired myself. I never thought I'd be grateful to see Kaon but the closer I get to it, the more relieved I feel. 2 Breems of rest is enough to keep me going. When we reach the main entry all I do is shove his mug into the camera's view and glower behind my mask at it. I pray no one can see how nervous I am.

I'll admit, I'm scared half out of my wits right now. I have to act as if I don't know where I'm going and try not to let a single inkling of fear escape my body. Oh and on top of that, block Soundwave and still appear as if I have all my carbonducks in a row.

We've proceeded down the long passageway from the main entry and I wait. I won't move a step more. Swindle hangs his head in, what I can only assume is shame.

Soundwave is approaching from the direction of the Coms and control room. I swear if I had breath, I'd be holding it right now.

"Follow me." Mr. Excitement has spoken and we do as commanded. I stare at his back trying desperately not to think about putting a knife in it. If I preoccupy myself with emotional junk, I may leave myself open telepathically. Nope. I know that twinge in the back of my head. He doesn't see me shake my head and thank Primus for the face shields so he can't see the smirk beneath them. I block him quickly enough when he does try that he stops, turns and, I can only guess since his face is covered as well, stares me down. Ah, going incognito is grand.

"You can sit, you can not." Soundwave leaves the room to do what I guess, is to go alert Megatron that Swindle is back. I sit down at a chair of which my aft is, excuse me, was very accustomed. It's the chair I used to sit in when I worked with Captain Boring. Oh look, there's the floor I spent a lot of time on in agony grabbing my head after a telepathic attack. Ah the good old times. I sit, wait, watch and listen. Oh and scan mentally.

I'm hoping I don't need to play audience to some sort of punishment for Swindle. He's a piece of scrap but I know what they can do to one of their own if they're angry enough. I don't want a reminder right in front of me.

I'm lost in my own thoughts when Soundwave comes back. I look up as he enters, saying something that I did not hear. Augh. I have to speak to him. I switch vocal processors to the one that closely mimics his. "Say again." Is all I say.

"Swindle is going to go into a detention facility now instead of returning to his duties. You will accompany him there, turn him over and return to here. Only then will you be finished. Astrotrain will take you both." That was a command. I know it.

I nod. It's all I can and will do. Yay a field trip with the black market master and the space choo choo. Lucky me. Phase 1 has come and gone and I'm still alive. I could get used to this.

* * *

Tyre. A slagging pit of mischief. The perfect drop off place for Swindle to learn nothing. This is like criminal college. I can only wonder who gave the order to send him here. Oh well, not my worry.

Before I turn him over I have to do one last thing. "Swindle, what is it Soundwave is looking for?"

He hesitates and eyes me suspiciously but does not respond. Out comes the gun. "Do you only comply to pain?" Oooh that sounds evil when it's monotone.

"No. Here." He pulls a small chip out of a compartment on his wrist. I don't ask what it does. I have no reason too. I'm only the hired muscle, how funny, to get this guy. I put my gun away and shove him forward. The guard gives me his confinement orders which have been approved and marked to bring back as proof and I'm on my way. I sit silently the entire flight back. The great thing about this Bounty Hunter stuff is that no one asks you any questions.

Or so I thought...

* * *

Well, here it is. Volume 2 of Enigma's story is beginning. I will probably be running two stories congruently. This one in the first person and the other in the third. Typical femme drama is abound as well as a the growing friendship between Arcee and Enigma. These are only the introductions that will set up the rest of the story so that I, hopefully, won't have to back track. I hope you enjoy. 

See Transformers: The War Within TPB.


	2. War and Peace

A/N: Talk about a busy day.

* * *

I would like to draw a mental image for you. 

A mysterious black Seeker of new design with no face and no markings other than the brand of a bounty hunter, is standing alone in the Communications and Control Room of the main Decepticon base.

How long do you think this will stay secret?

I'll tell you. 3 breems. Now, the cycle that followed that, I was unaware of what words were being spoken in muffled and hushed voices around the fortress. No, I _wasn't _scanning. I'm kicking myself in the aft for it right now. Anyway, maybe it was nostalgia or maybe it was that need to partake in self torture of which I cannot cure myself that made me agree to be "shown" to the mess deck by Rumble, either way here I am.

His optics looked magnificent by the way.

It was difficult, acting as if I had no idea where anything was. I found myself walking towards that chair that I'm so familiar with. I stopped myself mid stride and stood by the window instead, looking out as if I found the empty city around it incredibly intriguing.

Word travels fast in 8 breems.

I hear the doors slide open behind me but I don't turn. I have no need to. I know who it is. Okay, the real reason I didn't turn was because I _did_ know who it was but I was too nervous to face them. I feel my anger boiling inside of me. I'm not ready for this. I should have just turned the mission down. Dammit! I'm a glutton for punishment.

I open my mind up and sense curiosity. There's a huge surprise. Thats all I'm getting as I turn to face them. Again, if I had breath, I would be holding it. I'm sure that under my shield my face looks as stressed as any face can be. A metacycle has passed since the last time I faced these three._ No_, I'm not over it. Put yourself in my shoes. Would you be? I know I had it coming but still... I mean, come on. See how you'd feel after you were basically beaten to death, put on display and abandoned by the very one who brought your aft into existence. I guarantee you'd be as angry as I am.

So...For the first time in over a meta cycle, I'm standing about 2 arms distance from my former wing mates. I take solace in the fact that they have no clue as to who or what the hell I am. But truthfully I'm not focusing on any of them. I can't. I'm holding onto my composure by a thin string right now. So I focus on the floor at their feet. I'm thankful for my face shield, they can't see or follow my gaze.

A pack of mecha-wolves. That's the only way to explain what they remind me of. Starscream taking up the Alpha male position and the inseparable team of Thundercracker and Skywarp standing off to both of his sides, all three sizing up the newest Seeker in town.

_Haha glitches, your out of date._ I chuckle silently to myself. This silent joy makes me feel pretty damned good for a moment.

Not a single word has been spoken between us. For which I am very grateful.

"A bounty hunter?" Damn. Silence is broken by mouth almighty himself, Starscrem. I may seem calm and composed on the outside but inside I'm frozen in place. I can't move, can't...

"Do you speak?" Ah, that tone of sarcasm that most of his words are tainted with. I can't speak is what I was going to say. I can't explain what's going on in my head either. It's a jumbled mess of emotions that I'm trying desperately to block. I still can't look at him. If I do, I know all hell is going to break loose. I focus on the exit behind them. If I can only get out of here without saying anything...

The door opens behind them and Soundwave walks in. Never in my life can I recall the last time I was so grateful to see that scheming bastard. Saved by all of the emotion and personality being sucked out of the room with each step he takes forward, right now, I'm grateful to see him. I calmly walk past Screamer, T.C. and Warp to join up with Soundwave. I want to run the hell out of there but that obviously isn't an option right now.

I get my payment as we walk down the passageway towards the main entrance. We don't use money anymore. Money is useless on a planet that has no government. I receive free passage. Sounds like nothing but believe me. It has value in this war.

I may seem odd that I can deal with Soundwave so easily but have such difficulties with facing Starscream, Thundercracker and Skywarp. Let me just say that I was never a fan of Soundwave to begin with. I have "beef" with him as well but I always have. Then again, I had a similar relationship with Skywarp. Both of them are pretty high up on my 'Cons to kill' list. But Starscream, he's in a category all his own. Thundercracker, unfortunately, is guilty by association. I will have my revenge on Soundwave. The only problem with him is that it'll take a lot of brainstorming, strategy and planning. Skywarp... well he's a case of just finding him out on his own one day. As if that'll ever happen.

Walking away, I hear a simple, "That was strange." Coming from the mess deck. That simple sentance is enough to bring a smile to my shielded face.

As soon as I leave that main entrance and take to the skies, I know I'm home free. This is when I would exhale if I could. It's a long flight back. I need a rest and some quiet time.

* * *

"So how'd it go?" 

As soon as I got back, I planted my aft in a chair and haven't moved an centimeter since. I can't think. I'm leaning my head back on the chair backing and I've been staring at the ceiling for cycles on end. Right now, I see Arcee's upside down face blocking my view of the ceiling. She's standing above me and looking down. I've had a busy day and my processors are working overtime, this view is very odd.

I sigh in response.

"That good or that bad?" She walks over to my right and takes a seat in the chair next to mine, waiting patiently for my answer.

"Both." I sit up and face her managing a very weak, "I wasn't ready 'Cee."

"I didn't think you were either. What happened?" She's a good friend. It seems like from the very beginning this is the way we were. I knew I could trust her. Even as strangers there was something about the femme that I knew I could trust. She hasn't failed me yet. I'd be lost without her.

"Swindle was easy enough and kind of entertaining. I enjoyed watching him squirm." I add a light chuckle as I recall him squirming like a little sparkling after I had restrained him, "I had to deal _directly _with Soundwave. That was uncomfortable enough. Then I had to come back and sort of hang out in the fortress..." Primus, even the thought gives me the creeps.

"You saw them didn't you?"

I hesitate a little longer than necessary then drop my head back against the chair again and mutter a cynical sounding, "Uh huh."

She doesn't answer. We sit in silence for a moment. Lucky for me, she understands how hard it was for me to have been in that room earlier. I feel that I can be myself around Arcee. Thats a relief. Arcee is really my first femme friend. I've been surrounded by mechs my entire life so it's really nice to have a femme friend for once.

When I speak again, my voice sounds strained and hoarse. It breaks as I say, "I can't look at them. Any of them."

"I don't expect you to be able to, 'E."

"Will this ever get easier?" It feels like it never will.

"I don't know." She reaches out and puts her hand over mine in a caring manner which means so much to me. I rest my head on the arm of the chair and wheeze out a "I don't know if I can do this. My heart says destroy, my mind says not too. I'm in a unique position that I don't think I'm cut out for."

"Yes, you out of any one I know, are cut out for it. You just need time."

She's right. I do need time. Time to sort out how I feel. I need time to focus.

* * *

The Cygo Plain is a long flat expanse of nothing that _used _to be Vos. The early days before the war, during the end of the Golden Age, we sort of took care of this city. Actually Tarn took care of it by leveling it to the ground with a volley of missiles for which, in return, that city received 5 very lethal atomic weapons which reduced it to a smooth surface which is still hot today. I was created here in Vos. This was where the earliest days of my life took shape. This is also where I committed my first crime under the direction of Starscream. I come here because no one else ever does.

I also came here to think. Old habits die hard. I still wander off when I need to concentrate.

I kick at the rubble beneath my feet and pace back and forth thinking,_ I hate him. I hate them. How long will I have to pretend, win their trust only to use it against them? _until my processors hurt.

"You still care too much, Enigma." Arcee has told me over and over again. I keep hearing her say that in my mind. It's time I try to clear my mind.

I close my optics and lean back, spreading my arms towards the sky. I can feel the soft breeze across my wings and the silence around me seems to seep into my armor. Stillness. Absolute stillness. It is here, upon the scar that was my home once, that I feel at peace again.

I only get a few minutes of this personal vacation time before I have to head back. I enjoy it while it lasts.

* * *

Now, I am technically an independent. I shouldn't fight for a specific side or ideal but no one ever said that self preservation wasn't reason enough to do so. Ironically enough, after my reflective break out on the plain, I find my calm mood shattered by a Seeker in need of entertainment. 

Sunstorm. I owe this son of a glitch a missile up his tail pipe. Plus, I want my sword back. Apparently, his Commander neglected to tell him that messing with bounty hunters is a no-no. Not that I would really expect Starscream to give a damn.

The yellow and orange colored jet is following me and I'm not enjoying it. Hmmm... this gives me a chance to do something I've been itching to do since returning to good old Cybertron, I go full throttle. I, know that old yellow belly won't be able to keep up, but that arrogant core programming I have makes me want to showboat a little bit. I pull up into a straight climb and still accelerate. Damn, Alpha Trion did a great job on my upgrades.

I check my sensors, yep Sunstorm is back there he's not gaining so I pull a false stall and free fall. This probably wasn't the best idea being as it was one of my signature moves before. I change it up a bit and level out low, hugging the terrain instead of tumbling into a landing. I dodge left and right trying to loose him. It's not until I brake hard and drop down that he finally flies past. I use the few seconds I just gained performing that maneuver to land and transform. I wait patiently on the ground for his return.

Sunstorm circles back in my direction. I don't take my optics off of him for a moment. No sooner does he land, he circles around me, sizing me up for the fight that I know he is just aching for. What can I say? I'm a twisted glitch. I'll give him a fight if he wants one. What I wasn't expecting was for him to challenge me at a hand's distance.

"So you're the new one eh?" He asks with a cocky tone that I will forever swear is part of a Seeker's core programming.

I say nothing. I know I can take Sunstorm on and win. He was my primary wing mate after all, I doubt he's changed any of his tactics in my absence. I also know that if I waste him, I will open up a world of hurt for myself. I have no choice but to open up communication with this dumb aft.

"Yes." I try to answer in an equally cocky tone but this monotone voice sort of kills the effect. Oh well, that was good enough communication for me.

"Nice. Lets see what you can do on the ground." I don't believe this slag. They never change. Always challenging someone, trying to be on top, never giving up. Well, the least I can do is incapacitate him. Phht... who am I kidding. The _most_ I can do is incapacitate him.

I give him credit, he catches me off guard by lunging without preparation and knocking me down, the fragger. I break free and back up, gun ready. He lunges again but meets the business end of my foot in his side. He falls down and I make my move to pounce on his chest. I've got him down and not in the best position. I hit him hard in the temple and watch his optics flicker. Damn, I'm faster overall, not just in the air. I wrap one hand around his throat and the other arm is busy aiming a gun at his forehead. All I say to him in that cold monotone voice is, "Make a choice. Live or die."

He struggles, moving to strike me but I move my gun down to his chest just below where the spark casing is and fire close range. He made a choice but I'll let him live. I'm trying this compassion thing out. So far, I can't complain too much. I pull out energy bands and tie him up. A prone prisoner is a good prisoner... or victim. It all depends on your outlook. wink

This time, I decide to fly back. I strap the bands to my weapons bay hooks and carry him back to the safety of his own base. I think being angry works for me when I'm coming into contact with Decepticons. I seem to have just the right enough amount of strength or energy to do what I need to.

When we arrive at the base, I drop him with a rather unceremonious thud on the platform leading up to their main entry way. I open up a communications channel with Soundwave because I know he's on the other side of that camera. He always is.

"Missing something?" Are the only words I say over the comms link.

The doors open but I don't move.

"No. Give this message to Starscream." I look down at the lump that is Sunstorm at my feet, before continuing. "Put a leash on your mechs or the next one that follows me and attacks comes back in pieces."

I cut the bands rather roughly and take them back, walking away while shaking my head in disgust, I take to the skies. If they want to start this, I'm ready.

Or at least I hope I am.


	3. Meeting Bluestreak and his anger

A/N: I own nothing but Enigma/Heatseeker. The glitch is mine.

If you've read Kaybeeblu's The Departed and you loved Bluestreak, I did too. I swear that woman is a genius. Her character's are astounding to say the least.

Later on in Enigma's complex future, Bluestreak will play a very large part in Enigma's life and he will remain a major player in it from this point on, here is their awkward, ugly and painful introduction. Some OOCness but it's a necessary evil.

* * *

Ages ago, way back in the beginning stages of the uprising that lead to this war, the Decepticons wanted to make a statement. They wanted to instill trembling fear in the peaceful masses. So they put on one hell of a show of power. Brutal, merciless, seething hatred fed power that destroyed an entire city. Every inhabitant be they mech, femme, sparkling, youngling, and even the most revered of the elder citizens were brutally slaughtered. They were tortured for cycles on end before the finally succumbing to extremely painful deaths. For the sanctity of your psyche, I won't elaborate further.

I will say that I saw the devastation not very long after. I saw the broken, shattered and energon spewn carapaces of the victims. The empty optics forever frozen in fear. Eons of war have passed since, but 'til this this day, I still have not seen anything remotely close to being as horrible as what I saw in the crumbled and charred remains of that city and it's dead citizens.

I never brought it up again. I said nothing to the effect of condoning it. In some back water section of my central processor, I actually understood Megatron's purpose for that attack. I regret my inactions and my silence, but still I never condoned it. I wasn't there since I was on another mission that day, I may have not slain a single one of the victims but my inaction, my acceptance of what my fellow Decepticons had done, made me just as guilty.

Oh, I forgot to mention that they did go so far as to leave one of the residents of that city alive to tell the story of what happened. He had been gone as well that day and returned at the wrong time. They made him watch as they killed and tortured each of his friends and family in front of him. Imagine that for a second, please. What would that do to _your_ mind? I would bet a lot of high grade that it would break or lie very close to doing so.

Little did I know that that mech had a will so strong, that no matter what he had seen, no matter the nightmares he suffered when he recharged,_ no matter_ how heinous the acts committed in front of him were, he survived with his sanity intact. Little did I know that he was found by an Autobot not long after and taken in by them._ Little_ _did _I _know_ that he was alive and well and in the autobase. Oh, and that he was one of the best gunners amongst their ranks.

I just found out.

I'm in a world of hurt.

And for the first time since that fateful night in Iacon that changed my life forever, I'm worried about my future.

I'm paying the price for my silence all those megacycles. I'm paying for what my former comrades did. Regardless of what side I'm on now, I'm paying for it_ all_ and it sucks but I deserve it.

I've just been introduced to Bluestreak.

You may know him as being the relatively happy, go lucky mech with a nasty tendency to ramble on about...well...anything. He is. But that is not the case around a Decepticon or former Decepticon. Throw one of us into the mix and he becomes a rather focused and physical individual.

I'm not fighting back. I just can't. I won't allow myself to. He has every right to feel as angered as he does. All I do is try to fend off his strikes. Try to avoid another hit that has energon trailing down my chin. He's laying out some good hits.

"Do you have any idea what it was like? Any of it? All of them. My friends, my family, _everyone_ dead and it was just a game to you. Just a game!" Bluestreak screams into my face at a distance that is close enough for me to see how pinpointed his optics are in his fury. How focused they are. To describe him as livid is an understatement right now. He throws me up against a wall, banging the back of my helmet rather hard against it. _Ow._ I give him credit, I've got at least one head of height on him and he's still tossing me around like a sparkling's toy. Plus, there is a very large gun pointed at my head.

_That_ is the part that has me worried. No, scratch that. Scared.

"I'm sorry." I manage to blurt out between his raging.

Bluestreak stutters and blinks rapidly on whatever he was about to berate me with next, stops trying to cut the fluid transfer to my head and takes a small step backward, still holding me against the wall, still pointing that friggin' cannon at my head. "W-what?"

"I am sorry. I wasn't there." Yes, I'm pleading, "But I know what happened. I know what they did. I saw the aftermath. I'm sorry." I look him dead in the optics when I say it. Well, as dead as I can considering that a blank, black, mask is all he can see. I mean it, though. I'm not apologizing to get him to stop. I'm apologizing because I don't think any other Decepticon, former or current will ever do so.

"You're sorry?" I can't tell if he doesn't believe me or doesn't believe his audio receptors. But either way, Bluestreak looks a tad bit surprised by my apology.

"Yes, I am." We're gathering a crowd now. Nice. Spectators. I don't know what else to say. What can I say? There's nothing left_ to _say right now. New design or not, It is still pretty obvious what I am and from where I came or at least what my intended purpose was to be. Everyone except the most brainless goon would know that at one point in my life I wore the purple insignia on me. No true Seekers came to the Autobot side. Military design, military use. We are war machines intended to seek out the enemy and destroy from above. Funny how the tables are turning these days.

And I bet a good portion of those spectators would love to be in Bluestreak's black footpads right now.

"Go." He still looks angry but I don't think there's any fight left in him right now. Bluestreak turns away from me and looks off somewhere distant as he points towards the door. He sort of looks like a statue of indignation. He lifts his head up and levels his gaze at me, rejoining the present and flatly tells me,"Just go."

That's exactly what I do. I push my bulk off of the wall and walk calmly down the hall towards the crowd and the exit from this. I look past everyone, to making any sort of optic contact as I cut through them all and walk out the door. I pause on the other side and stare upwards for what seems like an eternity, at the deep purple, smoke cloud streaked sky. Closing my optics, I think about what lies ahead of me. I'm going to spend the rest of my existence paying for what I did, as I rightfully should. But it's not just my crimes that I'm going to pay for, it's those of every Decepticon that I'm going to pay for as well.

Sometimes I wonder if it was worth it. I shake my head at that thought because yes, it is worth it. Aft beatings or not, I'm still here.

"Old Blue gave ya quite the throttling huh, kid?" Ironhide walks up behind me and startles me with that amused laughter in his voice.

"Yeah, I'd say so." I lift up my mask and the energon that had pooled there runs down the front of my chest plate in a glowing light purple streak. I watch as it drips off of the mask edge above my optics.

"Might wanna go see Ratchet about that."

"Yeah, I will." I pause to wipe my chin guard and the mask edge. "Ironhide, I don't get it. You hate the Decepticons too but why do you tolerate me?" I've wondered this for a while but never had the gears to ask. I figure now is better than never. I already had my aft kicked once today, what's one more?

Ironhide appears to ponder my question for a minute before giving me the last answer I'd ever expect. "Way back when you first came here, you were adamant about saving things. Fixin' 'em. Yeah, you've stood on a rope between the two sides for a while and I suspect that part of you still does but there is more goin' on there.. You're one hell of a fighter, kid, and I know you enjoy the battle but you... you just seem more worth it than the rest of your kind I guess."

Interesting.

"It won't always be like this ya know? It'll get better." he seems so sure of this. But really, who am I to argue? Ironhide's been around a while, he's seen just about everyone that has come and gone on this side of the battle. He'd know. Plus, I'm not the first 'Con to turn. There's been a few. At least two of them have a long list of responsibilities within the Autobot ranks. Jetfire, whom I have yet to meet, turned up a few megacycles back and now heads up the research division on the Calibi-Yau. Grimlock, heh, he commands the special teams. That way his rebellious streak can be left to it's own devices. If they can make it well, guess there's hope for my aft.

I take a chance mentioning Jetfire and Grimlock. "I know. I know I'm not the first either."

"Nope." Ironhide brings his hand up to his chin and raises his optic ridges at me humorously, "maybe you should talk to them."

"Heh. That won't work. Well, at least Grimlock won't."

"Why not?"

"Grimmy and I don't exactly have, well, had the best relationship." I rub the back of my neck nervously and stare up at the darkening sky again. "Starscream." Starscream and Grimlock went at it a few times in the arena way back before the war. Screamer had a tendency to underestimate Grimlock only to be proven wrong time and time again, but he never learned. Grimlock would remind him and Screamer would conveniently forget. Only the physical scars would remind him for the short amount of time that they would last until heeled. Being Starscream's little tag along, I was automatically guilty by association and add in a couple of snide comments of my own just out of loyalty to Screamer.

"Won't hurt to try."

Damn. He's right. I could at least try. I doubt he would try to pound my aft into a pulp. Then again... I am talking about Grimlock. "True."

"Go get yourself fixed. Ya look like slag." Ah, there's the Ironhide I know. Spark felt moment... over.

I can't help but chuckle at his sudden return to the gruff and hard shelled mech whom I think is one of the coolest I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. He'd probably try to end my life though if I told him that he sort of reminds me of Thundercracker. Same grumbly personality, usually short on words and same short temper. But the similarities end there. I decide to keep my observation to myself for the sake of my safety and my already have beaten state. "I will, 'Hide."

A gravely,"Ahright." Is all he says as he turns to go back inside the base.

I stop staring up long enough to notice the still running trail of energon that is leaking from my mouth. Oh boy, internal damage. Good job, Blue streak. I head back inside to see Ratchet.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

"So, I heard you didn't fight back at all. Do you have a death wish?" Ratchet is not a happy camper right now and he's reminding me with each "repair" he makes. He also is not a fan of mechs getting injured intentionally. Somehow not doing my best to defend myself falls into this category.

"No, I just knew why he was doing what he did and he had every right. Why fight back? I did at least try to block his shots, he's quick." OW! Primus! I would like to say that that comment struck a nerve but apparently, the only nerve struck was one of my own.

"So are you." He inspects a service line running just below chest plate in an area that Bluestreak got a few extremely well placed strikes at. "Apparently not enough, though." Ratchet narrows his optics at the injury that is causing the leakage from my mouth. He pulls slightly on the line, causing a strange pain to which I flinch. I raise my hand up out of an instinct to where the pain is and he slaps it away, pointing one of his torture tools at me. "Ah. Stop it."

I listen. It's just easier that way and place my hand back down at my side.

"I know you seem to think it was best to take the hits, but not to the point that you end up with internal damage, Enigma." He sounds annoyed with my lack of defense and tugs again, giving me a look that says 'don't you dare.' I can't see what he's doing but suddenly, the pain all of it goes away. "There you're fixed. Simple problem with a simple fix. Next time, even if you don't want to fight back, just try to block better or I won't use any anesthesia. Are we clear?"

"Crystal, Ratchet." _That_ was with anesthesia? Damn.

"Good. Go learn how to block better." I am dismissed with a wave of his hand.

Not only is he a medic, he's also a comedian with a really dry sense of humor and a penchant for minor torture.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

I walk to my quarters expecting to experience the sweet, warm, welcoming embrace of silence. I need to rest. I'm beat and I mean that in more ways then one.

Imagine my surprise to see Bluestreak waiting by my door, arms crossed and looking a bit tired.

"Are you doing to kick my aft again?" I ask him without much enthusiasm and equal exhaustion. Not that I really can convey much enthusiasm with a monotone voice.

"No. I came to talk."

"About what?" I don't mean to sound as bitter as I do but I just don't know what can be spoken about right now. I hurt. I just want silence.

"Can I come in?"

"So you can kill me in the quiet privacy of my own quarters? I think not." I know I sound frustrated and bitter. But I just let this guy unleash megacycles of anger and kick my aft around a hallway a few cycles ago. I'm not exactly in a chatty mood right now.

Bluestreak looks down at his feet, shakes his head and sighs,"I didn't come here to kill you, hurt you or anything like that. I came here to talk. Thats _all_." He looks as frustrated as I do. "Arcee is coming anyway. She talked to me after... we met."

"Oh." Arcee's going to play referee eh? Fine. "Whatever. Fine." I stand aside and let him walk in first. I'm not being polite. It's a Decepticon thing. It's easier to see the knife coming at you this way.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

It didn't take 'Cee long to show up. I didn't say a word to Bluestreak until she walked in the room.

She beams us a sunny smile that only she can get away with. Damned peppy pink paint job. If I tried that, I'd probably scare folks. "Sorry. I'm late." She says sweetly and plops her self down on the floor still grinning and waves her hands at us as if she's performing some weird ritualistic spell and barks out her orders. "Okay. Talk. Talk."

"He's the one who wants to talk. I just want to recharge." Yeah, I'm cranky. So what? My crankiness gets me two frowns. Great so now I'm a kill joy.

"E, stop being difficult." Now Arcee sounds like she's about to give me an aft kicking. I just winning over sparks left and right today. I'm on a roll! Go me!

"But I'm so good at it," I shoot her a devilish grin that actually gains me a chuckle from them both. I clasp my hands together and rest my forehead on them. "Fine. Shoot, Bluestreak, but not literally. Please."

He looks over to Arcee and says,"You were right about that sarcasm." I shoot her a death glare to which her only response is to laugh at me and tell me that the death stare means nothing behind the mask.

"So what do you want to talk about?" I decide to start this so it'll be over quicker.

"For starters why do you hide behind a mask and a creepy voice modulator?" I give him credit, I was not expecting _that_ so soon. He's got gears.

"If I don't, the wrong mech may see me and let the wrong group know." Thats just part of the story.

"The mask, the voice... it's weird." Bluestreak makes what I can only call the "bitter energon" face. I have to fight back a giggle. So...

I shrug.

"What happened to you?" He's got massive gears, I think I like him after all.

"I experienced first hand what some of the residents of your home city did. I'm sorry. I was sorry before this happened to me but having been on the receiving end of that hatred, I am even more sorry. I really am." My answer hits something of which I am unsure. I can't tell what he's thinking. I don't want to read him, I'm afraid of what I may see. So I don't even try. "I betrayed the wrong group and I paid dearly for it. My 'death' was to be an example.

"If it wasn't for the femmes, I wouldn't be here. I owe everything I am now to them and all Autobots. It is only because you have the ability to forgive, that the 'Cons lack, that I am here. I don't know where I belong in this mix yet. I'll be honest with you. My spark still has that Decepitcon nature but my mind, it's more like an Autobot's. I can think about a bit more than death and destruction. It's not easy. It never has been and I doubt it ever will be. I think I'm destined to spend my life torn between the two. Hopefully, I'll find my niche or go off on my own, but I do know I can never go back."

Both of their faces soften a bit but Bluestreak looks to be in a deep thought, "So you hide because they don't know you're alive. Is it a revenge thing?"

"Sort of. I guess. No... not really. It's just easier for me like this and it's fun. It's actually pretty liberating." I can see where this is going. He's not going to give up. I also know that I can say that I'm sorry a thousand times but until I can say so with the emotion attached, it won't make a difference. Arcee jokingly makes a face at me. She motions for me to raise my mask. What a dork. I raise my mask and use my true voice. I look Bluestreak dead in the optic this time so he can see that I mean it. "I am sorry."

He looks shocked. I wasn't trying to shock him though. A sly grin grows on his silver face, "Well, I'll be damned. A femme seeker." He looks up as if accessing some memory somewhere before rambling on," femme seeker... femme seeker. Wait. That evil red femme? The one that was always shadowing Starscream? Was that you?"

I roll my optics and pinch the bridge of my nose, Arcee laughs. She points at me and laughs harder," Haha. Shadow. We should have designated you as that."

"Shut it or I'll fuse your lip components together." I threaten playfully. She continues to laugh albeit more quietly now, I turn back to Bluestreak, "yes, that evil red femme that was usually not far behind Starscream. Do you see why I hide now?"

"Sort of. Yes."

"I had no where to go. I came to the Autobots before my... treacherous acts were brought to light. I owe you all my gratitude and I owe the Decepitcons my attitude."

"That was lame, 'E." Arcee mumbles from the floor.

I grimace and roll my optics again, "'Cee, I'm going to throw things at you. Pointy things. Sharp things. Things that pierce armor. Can it." I smile and laugh to lighten my threat, which is a possibility right now no matter how close she and I have become. "Shouldn't you be harassing Hot Rod right now?" Arcee gives me a smirk that tells me that she is short for comeback. Yes! One point for me. I turn my attention to Bluestreak as he speaks up again.

"I believe you, Enigma. I also believe that you are truly sorry. Not many of you can apologize and mean it. Hell, I don't think any of you have. And, I'm sorry that I kicked your aft earlier too." There's the Bluestreak everyone told me about. Rambling and nice. Sweet. Yeah, I can dig 'im.

"No problem. You obviously need it. I totally let you win, though." I humor him. The mood is lighter.

"Really?" He says sarcastically, not believing me one stinking bit. "You think so?"

"Oh yeah. Definitely. But you want to know the truth?"

"Sure."

"If you ever get into a hand to hand fight with Skywarp, you're totally going to wipe up the ground with his back side." Ah the mental image that provokes makes me smile like I'm king of the world. Well, Queen of the world.

The smile that put on his face was damn near godly in it's size," Good to know." Bluestreak gets up and walks towards the door. "I'll let you get on with your recharging. It was good talking to you, Enigma, and I'm sure we will again soon." He gives 'Cee and me both a quick wave before disappearing down the hall.

Arcee gets up and leans against the chair where he had been sitting before,"Awe Enigma made a new friend. She only had to get beat up for it. He totally made you his glitch." She makes a mad dash for the door which is probably safer for her. I swear, she has grown gears of steal since this entire HotRod thing, crush, I don't know what, came to fruition.

"Shut it, femme!" I holler going after the pink and white streak that she has become, but I stop at my own door. All I hear is her crazy cackle echoing down the hall as she heads to her room.

I still feel like the oddball around here, but if the one mech who has every right in the world to detest me can find it possible not too. There is hope after all.


	4. Reality check is in the mail

It was akin to stepping across the threshold of a ballroom and realizing that you are the scandal that is on the mind and lips of all that attend. The same hushed silence, the same surreal stillness that permeates every body in the room, all the while the music plays steadily in the background. All eyes are on you waiting to see what you will do or say. Will whatever you utter captivate, stun or only result in a cruel, soul crushing laughter? And in a fashion as quick and fleeting as such scandals are, the moment passes and everyone returns to what they were occupied with prior to your less than grande entrance.

That was how felt when my feet hit the ground in the middle of their battle, sending a cloud of dust up around me. I held my arms defensively by my side, my gun at the ready, my expressionless, smooth face staring out searching. I _felt_ the silence more than heard it. In all the minds around me I read a muted hush, a curiosity that was afraid to be spoken. Optics watched, mouths unmoving, minds temporarily frozen waiting for something to happen. I couldn't help but smile to myself. It feels good to get such a reaction even if it is just for a moment. Maybe my logic circuits are as twisted as everyone seems to think because as I look around me, I think of how vulnerable they all are. How easy it would be just to... no, I won't even continue that though. I can't. Not to them.

I search and see who is the reason for feeling that I need to be in this place. Out here in the open amongst the battles, the fires, the death and destruction amongst which I am so at ease. I really shouldn't be here. It isn't conducive to my most recent job descriptions. To stand amongst these warriors is almost to pledge my allegiance to a side. Something that as a sworn Bounty Hunter, I am not at liberty to do. Even though, I practically already have.

I see below but ahead of me, a small pink form darting in and out of the cover of rubble, her gun raised, that look of pure menace on her otherwise angelic looking face. I watch the beautiful precision with which she kills her enemy. That look of focused rage contorting her face, one could almost mistaken her for a Decepticon. All the elements needed of a warrior in battle, the focus, the rage, the precision and the enjoyment of it all is a trait for which the Decepticons are known not a former civilian like Arcee. No wonder I like her so much. She's a femme after my own spark.

To sum Arcee up, she's small but mighty.

I don't move forward, I can not join in this fight unless I am threatened. Only in the defense of myself can I raise my weapon to another. Believe me, it pains me to stand back and not have a hand in this. One day, I know I will say frag it all and let loose on a tirade of my own but until that time comes that I can no longer control the urges which are part of my deepest core programming, I will only be allowed to enjoy it all as a spectator. In the meantime, I just pray to all the holies that I don't loose what hard earned skill I have from lack of use.

I don't move from the safety of my observation point above the battle which is fizzling out below me. I see the destruction and it sickens me. I know, I'm a walking contradiction. It's the destruction of our home that pierces my core. We do all this fighting but in the end, what will be left to claim? Nothing. Just a charred pile of rubble with a thinning atmosphere, limping its way through space. I'm surprised that our moons have not abandoned all hope and left orbit to search out a more stable home. Hell, I'm surprised most of _us_ have not done the same.

The love of battle is hard wired in me though. Now that I have something upon which to base my anger, my hatred, the fires of my lust for battle have been given hope again in the form of vengence. Still, I only wish that we will have something to claim when it is all over. When it's all said and done. But even then, how long will that peace last?

"Enigma, what are you doing here?" a surprised voice calls from beside me.

I was so busy contemplating the world below that I failed to realize that not only had the fighting ended but that beside me stood an energon splattered Arcee. The glowing purple stains of spilt energon matching well with the soft pink of her exterior.

"Yours?" I ask wiping a stream of it from her arm. I hope not.

"Nope. Is it ever?" She chuckles and flashes me a smirk that says she knows damn well what she's doing and never to doubt her abilities. I don't. I know her too well. "You didn't answer me. What are you doing here?"

"I came to watch the show." That's only partially true. A panel opens up on my arm and my gun folds back into place. No need to have it. Any threat to me was gone almost a full minute after I landed here.

"_That's_ not a lie or anything," She rolls her eyes disapprovingly at me and puts away her own weapon. "Tell me you weren't checking up on me."

"If I don't watch your back, who will watch mine?" I mutter into the air. She and I are the only two femmes that we know of still on Cybertron. I have spent a lot of time fretting over what could possibly happen to her in this Megatron tailored age. Having a bit of first hand experience, I know that it isn't too nice.

"'E..." she sets her jaw in that manner that says I'm about to get a vocal lashing.

"Don't." I hold a hand up to her, stopping her mid sentence. It's rude, I know. But if I don't stop her before she starts she'll drive my audio receptors into a frenzy. "You're the only femme friend I've ever had."

"Through no fault of your own." She bluntly corrects me. She has that hand on her hip that says the fight is still in her. I hate these sort of days.

"They weren't strong enough." I say each word with equal emphasis. Now I am on the defensive even if I am staring at the ground beneath my feet. "I did what..."

"Uh-oh better stop now. Your roots are showing, Decepticon." Her optics are narrowed at me.

That hurt and she knows it. It was an unfair comment but she is right. I am showing myself. The dynamic we have keeps us both grounded. Well, mostly me. If I didn't have her on my side, by my side, Primus knows what sort of mess I would be in right now. Primus knows what sort of mess I could have _created_ by now.

I look over to her and study her from behind the anonymity of my mask. She's angered but confident in her choice of stinging words. Her shoulders are back and her chin up, even more than necessary for our height difference. She has taken the upper hand in this discussion as she usually does when I get like this.

I shake my head and turn away, my wings hanging just a pinch lower. I choose not to respond because the fine collection of scathing words that I have in my arsenal need to be saved for someone I _don't_care about.

"'E, I'm sorry." I feel a small hand on my arm but I don't turn. Her voice sounds a little more welcoming now than it did a minute ago, "Look, sometimes, you just need a reality check."

I look over my shoulder at her, "I know. But I can't help but feel lost, 'Cee."

"I know and I'm just trying to help you find the way."

"And I'm just trying to ensure you can remain doing that."

I flinch a bit as I feel her small hand rest on the back of my wing. She quickly draws it away and instead walks around to face me. I raise my gaze from where it had been resting, by my feet. Even from behind the security of my mask, I avoid her optics and look over her shoulder. I cross my arms protectively in front of me. I know I can trust Arcee but right now I feel as if the whole world is pressing against me.

"'E, you spend every day of your life slaying demons that only you can see. We all know this and I know that you are incredibly conflicted. Your spark is torn and your mind is barely holding itself together. It's okay to be scared. We all are at some point. And I'm afraid no one, no matter how much you try to care for them, is going to fill that void in you. It's up to you to fill it on your own. I'm afraid that if you don't, you're always going to be susceptible to... outer influence." She stands back in a manner that I can only guess means that she is waiting for me to explode in anger. I won't. I've heard this enough from her. She is right. It's finally sinking in now. "This is war, 'E. We live, we die. You know this as a survivor."

No sooner does she say that then does an all to familiar sound travel along the winds from somewhere above the distant the horizon carry to our audio receptors. I know she saw that twitch in my wings. The twitch that says I don't belong. She acts quick to divert my attention.

Arcee grabs my right hand with both of hers and pulls "Enigma, lets go. Lets go back. This is finished here."

I glance skyward, hesitating long enough to warrant a sharper tug on my arm. "_Now_. " She tells me firmly before adding a more relaxed, "I'll race you."

Appealing to my inner speed demon... I give her credit, she knows how to snap me out of it, "Like you stand a chance..." I answer with enough cockiness to warrant a relieved grin from her.

"Prove me wrong, glitch. Move your aft." She gives my hand a playful shove and then quickly transforms.

I give her a head start before transforming myself and going full throttle as I head skyward. The cool caress of the air on my wings and that sound it makes as I shred each molecule next to it into invisible tatters, helps to sooth any of my inner angst and wash my mind of the shadows that foul it.

* * *

I have stared death in the eye. Felt it's cold, merciless grip on my throat, it's tendril like fingers snaking their way into my spark. Trying to steal the very essence that is me. I've heard it's raspy, demonic laughter in my audio receptors, caustic and spreading in the middle of my central processor. 

Death is like the tax man. It comes for you and will take what it wants by force if necessary. Even if you run, it will find you. Death is inevitable.

But I laughed at it. Shrugged it off then beat it. I won. Such a survival will infect the mind of the soul that lives on, creating a sense of near immortality.

Cheating death... beating death is sort of a high. Which is possibly why after a bout 3 cycles worth of lectures from Arcee to stop flailing about as if stuck in a loop of self pity, I went out in search of nothing but a chance to feel like me.

I may not be able to join the battle, but I can find a fight. I'll admit though, this was not the fight I was expecting.To be honest with you, I wasn't expecting to fight anyone. I was out minding my own business. Okay, not entirely, I was following someone who has a tendency to pop up as a job every now and then. Just a 'Con underling with a tendency to push the limits. But having thrown caution to the wind, I wandered into rare questionable subterritory within the neutral regions and attracted that attention of someone entirely unintended.

I'm face to face with my old wingmate, Sunstorm and being as I still have a grudge against him, I have a score to settle. The only problem is, I can only act in self defense unless I want to end up marked.

I guess I should add that I know exactly how to crawl under his armor enough to trigger his rage and maybe have to protect myself against one of his radiating hugs. This ought to be fun.

"What are _you_ doing here, bounty hunter?" He's just so damned smarmy. I watch as the brightly colored splotch of Seeker before me saunters my way with the arrogance that curse or blesses our kind, depending upon whom you ask.

"What do you think?" I'll keep it simple and biting, as to not confuse him. "Go away, Sunstorm. Do not interfere with my work."

He takes a step closer to me, staring in a manner that says he's trying his hardest to figure out who or what I am and whether or not I'm worthy of a challenge. I don't step back. I'm feeling a little invincible today so I dare myself and step forwards, toward him.

"Feeling brave?" He says in a tone that just makes me want to shove a plasma gun down his throat and see how much energy he can swallow before vital components start to liquify themselves.

I roll my optics and groan quietly trying to not do that exact act. I really don't care for him. I Never did. He's overly philosophical in a condescending way, feeling that he's on a mission from the higher powers. I'm not afraid to admit we Seekers tend to think they are a bit above everyone else, the ability of flight will do that to you, but Sunstorm takes it to all new levels. His delusions of grandeur are up there somewhere near a god. He honestly believes, with all of his being, that he is on a mission from Primus. _I_ believe that he needs to be brought back down from the upper atmosphere and reintroduced to reality. Sometimes I wish Lord Primus would appear and reclaim his aft in a fiery glory just so no one will have to hear his quasi-religious diatribe anymore.

Oh, and he's not the brightest bulb either, even if he is the brightest painted Seeker. There is supposedly a holy text that states, "And the sun and its brother shall storm over the new world to reveal the beast and destroy it." Sunstorm believes that this text is speaking of not only himself, but Starscream as well. Hahaha. Right. If he and Starscream are prophets, Primus take me now because this world is fragged.

"Sunstorm, If you try anything, I will end you quicker than..."

"You'll what? Arrest me? Relax, bounty hunter." He throws that arrogance at me that we all seem to be hardwired with and it makes me want to slap him silly while slowly strangling the life out of him. " I'm just curious. You're a mystery. You appear out of nowhere. All new. No one has ever seen the likes of you before but you seem so knowledgeable about how things work. You have to admit, that's... strange. And there is no prophecy of a dark one."

See what I mean? He's nuts. If there was a prophecy that would speak of me, it would probably say ,"And the dark one shall wash the world of tyrants, specially delusional ones, and unite the world in light." Nope. Doesn't exist. I should shove his Holy Writ up his tailpipe.

I watch carefully though as he paces around me like a hunter stalking their prey. I'm really not feeling good about this but I don't want to pull out a gun as it is too blatant a move. I can't pull out a sword because that would be a dead giveaway and give an answer to his curiosity. Instead a release both of the knives in my inner wrist panel, their hilts being hidden by my cupped palms. It's easier to explain this as self defense if I need to.

"Well, I guess a mystery is how I'll remain." I watch as he passes in front of me, still studying me. _Still_ not seeing the knives in my hands. Thank Primus.

He stops beside me and glances over to with an entertained smile on his bright face. "Oh really?"

"Yes. _Really._ You are well aware that my identity can_ not _be compromised. If you even try, you'll be dead before you even have a chance to register who I am." In a battle of wits, I'm going to win hands down every time against old Sunny both physically and psychologically. He suffers from short spurts of power. I mean short. Real short. In a battle of speed, I win. His best tactic is the element of surprise. He'll hit you when you least expect it.

He steps to the side, now standing in front of me, and opens his mouth to speak but something catches his attention, silencing him. Uh oh, here comes that surprise. I notice that he is watching something over my shoulder, something or someone behind me with the most intense stare. I grab the knives but turn and follow his gaze to see something I'd rather not see behind me.

A pink bot...Arcee.

In my head I hear her unmistakeable female voice say, "Sorry, 'E." and a slight giggle follows. Now whos the crazy one?

"A femme?" Sunstorm sounds pleasantly surprised and blood thirsty. I know that sound in his voice and it is anything but good. I turn back towards him and recognize that look on his face. I'm not about to let that happen.

"No." I shout just as he successfully shoves me out of his way and takes off after Arcee. I put the knives back and reach for my gun. They both disappear behind a wall between two crumbling buildings. There's too much in the way here to take to the skies so I know he's going after her on foot.

_Arcee, Arcee, Arcee, what are you doing here? What were you thinking?_ I cry out in my mind. I know she can't hear me but I ask the questions into the nothingness of time and space in some hope that maybe some freak rip in the fabric of reality allows her to. I open my mind up searching for them both, allowing their thoughts to lead me to them both like a beacon in the darkness.

Arcee remains mentally silent as I have taught her. I'm impressed with how well she has learned how to hide herself considering she has no psychic abilities. Sunstorm on the other hand might as well be talking aloud. I reach around behind me and pull out a sword with my left hand. Best to not take any chances, I will remained armed with both a blade and a gun but if I need to rely on instinct, well, my sword is my best weapon.

I slink in and out of the countless tunnels of rubble and through the canyons of dilapidated buildings in the now neutral area. I hope silently that Arcee has just left and that this fight will be between Sunstorm and me only. Knowing the precocious femme, that means this is not the case. She's probably enjoying the hunt as much as I would like too. She's probably hoping for a chance to drive her gun right up Sunstorm's tailpipe.

I pick up something, that slimy hunter instinct of his. Now I know I'm close. I follow his thoughts as they swim towards me. I must be right behind him. I turn a corner and see him just ahead of me, looking very much the bit of a radioactive disaster about to occur. He's in rare form today. Must be the fact that he found a femme to destroy.

_Fragging Megatron and that useless decree_. It was nothing more than psychological warfare through a show of physical power and some of his minions won't just let it go. Even if almost everyone agreed that the decree was a bad idea. _Simply amazing._

As if something otherworldly has alerted him to my presence behind him, Sunstorm turns as if on an invisible bearing. _What the..?_ He was never that fast before. I pray to Primus that I manage to hit him. Somewhere in the blur that is Sunstorm coming at me and my sword arching I see a flash of metal hitting metal. I catch a beat of my spark timed with the pump in my chest. I half expect to look down and see myself run through by something. Anything. Instead the blur stops just a hand's distance from my face.

Sunstorm's face registers utter surprise and shock. I'm sure mine does the same. I feel a soft vibration in the hilt and I look down and see my sword buried deep, into his chest and through his spark casing. Purple sparks flick and trail out of the wound, crackling and snapping at the end of the hilt. He falls, very stiffly, backwards into the ground like a toppling statue.

_How?_

I've never been strong enough to do that. I didn't even think I was capable of anything like that_ after _being made stronger. _How?_

I lean down over him, searching for any sign that he's not as dead as the vengeful part of me hopes he is. His optics are dark. I put my weight into pulling the sword out only to see the gaping hole it had been filling a moment before grow brighter and brighter. A pool of energon starts to spread underneath of him. A dull fizzling sound marks the end of my former wing mate. I can barely move. I'm too shocked.

Primus, Lord Primus. I just killed my former wing mate and I shudder with a flash of panic, whether or not he deserved it. I look down at the sword in my hand, a single drop of energon hanging onto the tip. I fling it aside as if it is infected with hate and pull out a plasma ring to clean it before sheathing it. I have to leave. I pray that no one witnessed that. I pray that if they did, that they obviously saw it as self defense because a whole world of slag is about to be dropped on my head if it seems otherwise. I'm neutral by duty and I just killed a Decepticon.

_Frag. Frag. Frag. Frag. Come on, E. Get a grip. Get a grip. _

I gotta go. I search mentally for Arcee and still sense nothing. Not even an emotion. Dammit. I head back the way I came. Coming to where I last saw her, I still find nothing. No time to search.

Even the feeling of the wind along the edge of my wings does nothing to relax my racing mind.

* * *

"And so it begins..." I mumble emotionlessly into a cube of highgrade. I'm sorry, but my sensors are out of whack. I need something to take the edge off. I haven't even bothered to ask Arcee what the hell she was doing there. I have bigger things to occupy the dark recesses of my mind right now. 

I couldn't shake the feeling that I had just made myself a target. Sooner or later someone would go looking for Sunstorm and find him. Well, what was left of him. I want to believe that no one saw. That no one knows. Thankfully, there shouldn't be too much evidence that would point towards me.

But somewhere deep inside of me there is a prickle of alarm that just says, they're gonna know._ Dammit do I have to spend the rest of my existence paranoid?_ I just hope no one contracts me to go looking for him. Talk about awkward.

"You don't look too good."

I really need to learn how to lock the door. I remain silent as Arcee walks into the room.

"Lock the door." I say flatly, a look that doesn't get me the return of a raised optic ridge like I expect to see from her.

"High grade? Where'd you get that?" Pleasant surprise coats her question.

"It pays to know who has it and who doesn't." I smirk, looking down at the multicolored liquid that I'm swishing in the cube. "They want extra work, they have to pay extra."

"Black market dealing. I guess you're an old ace at that." She sits down in a chair across from mine and pulls her legs up towards her. I can tell by her body language that she is sensitive to mine right now. I seem to be relaxed but only in a manner that is perched perilously on a hair trigger that is set to pull. I guess she is so guarded because I'm radiating nothing but negative energy right now.

"Look, I'm sorry about earlier. I wasn't following... really. I knew you weren't doing anything in particular except getting away from everything, so I figured I'd join you." I knew this was the explanation she'd give me.

I take another sip from the cube and set it down on the table. Something about how I move makes her flinch. I can't help but let out an evil little snicker when she does so. "Relax." Well, that came out coldly. I can't help it. I'm just not feeling all warm and sunshiny right now.

I look over to where she sits, incredibly guarded and read her. I don't even try to hide it. I'm angry. I shouldn't be so cold but I can't help it. "Now that you told me why you were there, where did you go _after_ he spotted you?"

She looks uneasy. I know that I can still put off an air of menace if I need to _or_ am not careful and feeling prickly like I am today. She hesitates to answer and I breathe in a harsh rush of air through my intakes. The resulting whirring sound seems to break her concentration and change her demeanor a bit. I try to smile but judging by the grimace she just gave me, it didn't work.

"I didn't leave if that's what you're trying to get to. You know me better than that. I just figured, I'd make it damn hard for him to get me." The cockiness with which she answered leaves me quite impressed. On ground, neither Sunstorm nor myself stood a chance against Arcee. She really is_ that_ fast and maneuverable.

"Not quite but that will suffice." _Who the hell do I think I am?_ _Primus, I sound like Starscream. Ick._ I pick the cube of highgrade up and take a healthy swig of it. I have issues. I don't deny this.

Arcee gets up from her chair and walks over to me, leans against my chair and speaks in a very low voice, almost too low to hear. "I saw."

My right hand balls up into a fist in my lap. I rest my chin in my other hand and do not speak.

She rests her hand on my shoulder before speaking a little bit louder, "I'm sorry. I know you don't care about him. You're more worried of what may come of it all. But you were protecting me and yourself. Thank you."

I nod slightly and reach for what love liquid is left in the cube.

"I can only expect that you'll be back out tomorrow wreaking havoc?" I can hear the slight amusement in her voice. She's right. I will be.

"Yeah, I'm going to go check out what's live on the ether later and maybe take on a mission or two. "I might as well throw myself back into my normal routine. Anything else will look out of place. I mean, lets face it. I'm not grieving because I feel no remorse. He had it coming and I owed him as much. What I'm sitting here silently harping on is that the entire situation has caught me off guard and frankly, I just don't feel like dealing with any of the fall out from this should it find it's way back to me. "

"No point in driving yourself nuts over it. What's done is done." She says as she passes through the door and out into the hall. I stare down at the empty cube in my hand and laugh to myself. Again, she's right. That happens waaay too often anymore.

* * *

A/N: The term "Holy Writ" and the text "And the sun and its brother shall storm over the new world to reveal the beast and destroy it." were taken from a little research on Teletraan-1 the Transformers Wiki. It's from the Dreamwave Comics Continuity. Sunstorm is a religious extremist of sorts and I just wanted a reason to throw that link back to Screamer in there. ;-) 

In case you can't tell, I'm a closet Arcee fan. I guess I sort of see her as more of a Claire Bennet (Heroes) heroic cheerleader type more than the groupie with a gun that hangs on Hot Rod and the other guys type. I think her more optimistic and less serious way of dealing with the war works well in contrast to Enigma's cold, brooding and angry view of it all. Sort of like if Selene from Underworld was teamed up with Claire.


	5. Suicide mission

There was a ruckus.

I was wandering down the halls alone that evening. There was too much on my mind and I was avoiding a message that had been waiting for me to respond to it for cycles now. The sender alone was reason for me to avoid it. I walked up and down the halls until curiosity got the best of me.

I passed through the open doors and stood off to the side of the crowd in the command center, listening to bits and pieces of their discussion, argument, stressed out panic attack. What you want to call it all depended on who it was coming from.

Up on the screen in the center of the room were the blueprints of a place that I knew all too well. Styx. The worst of the penal colonies. I closed my optics in frustration. I opened them when I heard Prime's calm voice coming from the corner. Even at such a low volume his voice commanded attention. I listened up as the chatter in the room died down.

"It's a one shot chance... The Decepticon forces are focused on the Shilah front. Their attention is on a supposed undiscovered Energon pocket there. Styx is at minimum manning." I heard him say over the lowering racket. I took a step closer but kept my distance from the suspicious masses. I am aware of my place as an untrusted outcast.

"Prime, it's a suicide mission for someone who's allegiances we aren't even sure of." Ironhide's voice said from somewhere in the shadows.

"Yes, but he, Mirage and Sideswipe are all in danger there." Jazz said from directly in front of the information board. Upon hearing Sideswipe's name I searched the room for Sunstreaker. Seeing the yellow mech looking as conflicted as any mech can in the corner, I made sure to pay attention.

"Regardless, they still wear the Autobot symbol. Sideswipe is another subject all together..." Prime added quietly. Thank Primus for sensitive audio receptors. I can pick up a mech bug landing on a sholder 2 vuns away.

I hear an exasperated sigh from somewhere I can't see. When it's maker speaks up I recognize Jazz again. I strain to see him bent over the controls before him. "Prime, it's a suicide mission. Who is going to do it?"

"Dammit! Did you guys forget about me?." Sunstreaker yells from the side of the room. I watch as the yellow mech pushes past those in his way to make is way up front to Optimus. The pain he feels is evident in the way he clutches Prime's shoulder. "That's _my_ brother." Everyone in the room flinches at the pain and anger in his voice.

"Sunstreaker, its too risky." Jazz adds yet again.

Before I realize it my thumb is tapping against my leg in an anxious beat. I tune out as Sunstreaker pleads for permission to save his brother and two possible turncoats. Everyone tells him no but no one volunteers to do what needs to be done. Before I know what I'm doing, the words come out.

"I'll go."

The room falls still as all optics turn on me. I push forward to the monitors. "I'll do it. I'll go."

"'E..." Arcee warns from beside me.

"No. No." I shake my head and pat her on the shoulder. "No one else can do this, 'Cee."

I can't count how many pairs of arms cross in reaction to that comment. How many optics narrow at me and I can't help but find humour in their dislike.

I nod at Prime as I approach the monitors, looking up at at the structure plans before me. "I guarantee I've been to Styx more than anyone else here. I can bypass the security protocols, I may require assistance to put up the illusion of a true transport but it can be done, I've broken them before." I smile to myself remembering how I would hack into Styx's security protocols in my 'Con days just for fun. Hey, it helped keep them on their toes. "I know the floor plan. According to this, " I point to the date at the bottom of the screen, "nothing has changed. I know my way around. Plus, only one of us wears this." I point to the symbol on my chest the symbol that affords me liberties that it doesn't afford any of them.

"Damn, 'E." Jazz can't say anything but that. I can't help but grin to myself.

"I need fake mission orders, Wheeljack." I say knowing that he can get this done. I look to my right to see the scientist nodding at me in the corner. By the angle of his optic ridge I can tell he's grinning. "I'll need someone to take a look at the communication signals and possible cached passwords in the system. Hack it." I hear a chorus of grunts from my left. "I will need a transport skif and at least two personnel. One will have to go inside with me. I'll take up point. If anyone is injured, it'll slow me down if I go in on my own. I can take any heavy fire on my own. I need one to stay in the ship. Holographic disguises will be used by both." I look up hoping to see hands. I see none and sigh in frustration.

"Damn." I mutter to myself.

"I got your back." A voice says from behind me. I stand up to see who the mech was who added that. A wicked smile crosses my face as I notice Bluestreak step forward, his hand in the air. "I'll do it."

"Good. Thank you." I say before another voice chimes in.

"Well, I guess that keeps me in the ship then." Sunstreaker. I can't help but feel stunned. So it's probably a surprise what comes out next.

"No, Sunstreaker."

"What?" Ohhhhh.. he sounds pissed.

"No. Not only no. But hell no. Consider it conflict of interest." I say as I stand up straight gaining me at least 2 heads height on the yellow mech.

"That's _my_ brother they have there!" He shouts with understandable vehemence.

"Exactly. You've already said that. We have _three _individuals who need extraction. I can't take any chances. This is a one shot deal."

"No. I'm going..."

"No. You're not." I turn to him, leveling a faceless gaze at him that I'm sure chills a few frames.

"Enigma, I'll go. I'll take care of the skif." Hound steps forward. "Just think, all the holograms would come in handy." He adds a nervous laugh.

I swallowed again as I contemplate my small rag-tag team. Bluestreak is an amazing sharpshooter, Hound can charm his way out of a tier 3 security box and me...I'm just a pissed off former Decepticon. Beggars can't be choosers. I nod in agreement. "Prime, your permission?"

I hear Sunstreaker argue from somewhere off to my right and get promptly silence by Ironhide. I can't help but smile to myself.

Optimus Prime ponders my offer as I anxiously shift unseen. This has to work. It has too. No one else...

"Yes. Be safe. There will be a skif ready and at the launching platform in no more than 2 cycles. Do you have a plan?" He asks carefully, the look of pain in his optics.

"I will by the time we launch. I will provide you with it for final review and permission." I tell him and he nods. Whew.

I look around at anxious, curious and untrusting optics before me. I know many are asking why? My only answer to those who really care would be, "Because this is what it takes to be accepted. I'll always have to work twice as hard for half the recognition or respect.And because you are my family now. Like or not, that is how I see it."

* * *

"Sixa 2-7. This is Bulo2-5-2-5-2 request permission to land at dock 1-7." I say over the comm's link with Styx's communication center.

"Roger, Bulo 2-5-2-5-2, this is Sixa 2-7. We have received your request and are awaiting mission code."

"Sixa 2-7, our mission code is Alpha 6-2 Phi-0-7 Sigma 6."

"Bulo 2-5-2-5-2, mission code accepted. You are cleared for landing on 1-7. Enjoy your stay."

"Roger that, Sixa 2-7" I laugh coolly back at them, "May it be a short one."

"Lucky you, Bulo 2-5-2-5-2."a bored voice says before cutting out to static.

I wait until I hear the magnetic dampeners clamp down on to the skif. I look over at Bluestreak who looks only a tiny bit nervous. Hound looks entertained as I expected he would. "Alright fellers, these," I hold up to small, round, black discs in my hands," are your disguises."

"Come on, Enigma, "Hound challenges from my left, "I don't need any holographic generators. I got my own."

"I know, Hound. But these hold up in extreme combat situations and have a battery power of 5 cycles. That's more than enough for our mission and they won't sap your energy." I have to beg. It seems to work for me lately.

"Fine." He reluctantly takes one and I silently celebrate to myself.

Nothing against Hound, but Bluestreak is a much better shot plus, I already have an idea of how he fights hand to hand so I'm taking him with me inside the facility. Hound said he'd take care of the skif but being prepared is always the way to go. I have to give them both the quick run down of my plan. "Look, this facility has unusually low manning levels, their stretched right now and some of these mechs I know so mind bending them won't be too hard if necessary. This will be messy. I will do things that may catch you off guard or make you have second thoughts. I have no right to ask this of you, but please trust me. I'm here to get your...our comrades out... ALIVE. I will kill in cold blood if it means keeping our mission secret or just completing it. I'm warning you now." I turn to Bluestreak as I add, "I will protect you in ways you may not be ready to accept."

He smiles and nods towards the door. "Lets go get them."

I smile as I turn towards the hatch. I patiently wait as it opens and pass through into the airlock. Passing my identification and bounty hunter permit across the sensor stating that I am present in an official capacity and therefore do not have to relinquish my weaponry. The double doors open to a long hallway that seems to fade into darkness because of it's length. I turn to Bluestreak who has activated his disguise seeing him in dark red armor with a purple Decepticon is strange. I look away and continue down the long hall.

"It's a hike. Ready?" I ask

"As I'll ever be." He responds with nothing but honesty in his voice.

"Lets go then." And we both take off into the darkness

It seemed like an eternity as we passed through the halls but things seemed too easy also. I checked my saved maps of the facility against what I had downloaded from the Autobot sytem and all seemed well. Just too quiet.

I had that thought too soon as we approached the first section pass-through.

I take lead as Bluestreak falls in behind me, "Bounty Hunter I.D. ..." I flashed my identification up for him to see. Courtesy of Wheeljack I had a valid mission code." I wait patiently as the guard, a 'Con I did not recognize, checked my code orders.

"Say's here your on a single personnel mission." The guard turned back to me and said.

_Shit. Wtf? Dammit. Improvise, 'E, improvise_. I look to my side and notice that Bluestreak hasn't even budged. Thank Primus. "I modified them when I realized how out numbered I'd be with the prisoners. Last minute decision you know?"

Too easy still? Yep. The purple and yellow guard waves to the door and takes a sip of what looks to be prison made lowgrade. Ick. He winces as he tries to tolerate what I'm sure taste like poisoned sludge. "Improvising. I know all about that. You're good."

"Thanks." I say as he opens the doors for Bluestreak and I.

We enter a narrower and darker passageway. I stay alert but I am aware of what this part of the building is known for.

"We're entering in to the maximum security wing. Unlike other penal colonies, this one doesn't have a true Maximum Life sentence wing. This is limbo. This is where prisoners go while awaiting their execution. It's living hell." I say still waiting for the trackers to kick in. Seeing the little green lights turn on I know we're safe for now. No suspicions have been raised. No alarm. It's when those little bastards turn red that it's time to haul aft. Alarms will be raised and sentinels will be sent in. Mindless killing machines. I hate sentinels.

"How much further?" Blue asks from behind and to my right.

"Not much. The hard part is going to be the guard. Terminal guards are notorious hard afts. Sticklers for the rules."

"Great."

"Yep. That's where the fun will begin."

The wing lock for the Terminal section is possibly the most impenetrable section of the facility. Well, aside from the station quarters.

I punch in the access code on the panel beside the entry door. Really, I'm not supposed to have it. But allowing the guard inside to see that I do, will make him believe that I am a much higher ranking Hunter than most. It's a sign of trust. It should make him lower his guard just enough to lie my way in.

"I have a mission code." I hold up my badge showing the holographic projection of my code.

The black and orange guard eyes me suspiciously before turning back to the computer monitors before him and saying in a bored voice, "I'll have to double check with control."

"No problem," I waved my hand towards his communication equipment." ... Just doing your job." It _is_ a problem. Control will probably not go for this. If they cross reference my orders, they will see an addendum for two more mechs. Addendums aren't usually approved on a local level and would require checking within the system. The hack that Wheeljack made was strictly local. Styx and me are the only two entities with the orders. If they cross-reference and see that they aren't system wide, Blue and I could very easily find ourselves staying in a cell of our own. It is at this moment that I chose my next move.

The guard turns fully in his chair. Not a good move for him. His back is facing me, I look up at the cameras in each corner, swiftly draw out two knives and throw them at the wires connecting the offending devices, ending their transmissions. The startled guard turns to me in surprise but not nearly as surprised as when I thrust a sword into his chest and pulled upwards. I hold on as he falls towards the ground. I then lower his limp form into a chair. I watch only long enough to see the light drain from his optics then push his chair aside and punch in a general code that will unlock the wing we needed access too.

I look to my side and see that Bluestreak's optics are wide.

"I told you it would be messy." Shit the codes aren't working. I try every option I can think of to no avail. "Aaaand now it's about to get worse." I walk to the doors separating the terminal wing, as in death sentence wing, from the regular holding cells. Autobot officers and really messed up Decepticon traitors end up here. Rumour has it Starscream has a cell set aside just for him. Supposedly there is a name plate and everything. It's a shame that I don't have time to sightsee and take pictures. I pull two small round objects from the subspace in my chest and place each one by the locking mechanism on the door. I pull Blue to the side of the room farthest from the doors as a pressure blast forced both doors open enough. Knockers, that's what I call these little tools of wonder. They're almost silent, using three small sonic blasts of air that sound like someone knocking, to force doors open and they are becoming harder to find. The alarm sounds and as if by cruel joke as the proper code flashes in my memory. I run to the control panel and enter in the code ceasing the alarm. A crackle comes over the intercom, "Post 4-3, status?"

Blue presses a button on the microphone and states, "All secure. There was a slight equipment malfunction but its fine now."

"We're not receiving any visual, can you verify?"

"Yeah. Um. I," He looks at me with slight panic in his voice. I give him a thumbs up." They're fine down here."

"I'm sending someone down." The voice crackles again.

"Roger that."

"Come on!" I order as I drag him through the open doorway.

* * *

Luckily, there is a nice distance in the passageway between the last wing lock and the area we are headed too.

"Who...?" A small blue mech patrolling the passageway asks as I approach.

I hand him my badge, "I have mission orders" and the holographic orders rise up from the badge. The transfer order cycles through the images off all three Autobots and the release for transfer code flashes at the bottom. The blue mech looks over them carefully then hands them back with a grunt. "Remain here."

"Will do, boss." I say casually. Thankfully a monotone voice doesn't allow for my true nervousness to show through.

If I could tap a foot impatiently I would. Instead I stay as still as possible, praying that no one has gotten to the last wing lock and sounded a silent alarm.

The guard comes back with a crooked glare in his optics, "The release for transfer code is only for Dealer."

"That is correct." I say not faltering. No more improvising.

The guard motions back to the cells, "The other two aren't on there. Not on our end anyway."

"Look, what does _this_ mean?" I point to the insignia on my chest. "It means the rules change."

Maybe I shouldn't have pulled the Bounty Hunter card so soon. The blue mech is not happy but I don't care. I came here for three, I'm leaving with three.

"I can't let you take the others. I won't let you take the others. They're scheduled..."

Before he can finish, I strike him. Causing an outburst of cheers from the few cells that house mechs who are sane enough to know what's happening. The guard raises his weapon but his shot misses as he is struck down by a shot fired from behind me. The shot narrowly misses my side. I turn to Bluestreak in utter surprise. "You almost shot me!"

"No. I hit him exactly as I intended too." I can't tell if I'm more surprised by the accuracy of a shot that was so close to taking me out or the calmness of his voice when he answered. "I missed you by a long shot. Lets go." He motions towards the cells.

"Oh. Kay." I check the manning monitor to see what cells Dealer, Mirage and Sideswipe are in and decide that releasing just the three we came for isn't going to be enough. We're going to need a good distraction. I hit the mass release button, allowing every cell in the wing to open up.

"You're nuts." Bluestreak laughs as I take off down to the end of the wing to where our guys are.

"Only most of the time." I say as the alarms sound. Shit. Sentinels won't be far and they won't stop from shooting every moving thing they see.

We reach the cells and I shout over to Blue, "Grab them. No need to explain."

Blue heads towards Sideswipe and Mirage's cells. I grab Dealer.

I reach the cell and find him waiting beside the door. It's almost as if he knew we were coming.

"What took you so long?" He asks innocently. Guess he did know.

"Traffic. Shut your hole and move, Dealer."

"Glad to see you too."

"I said shut it. Move." I never cared for Dealer. I always knew him to be a Decepticon and I didn't like or trust him then. Then I found out he was an Autobot. Or vice versa. No one really knows. More of the reason why I hate him. He can walk around untouched while my aft gets ripped limb from limb. Hows that for fair? Frakker.

We get to the end of the passageway opposite of where we entered and meet up with Bluestreak, Mirage and Sideswipe.

"Here. Here." I pull two small hand held weapons out of my subspace and hand each to Mirage and Sideswipe.

Both look at me in surprise and before they speak I say, "Just follow and try not to shoot me in my back or head."

Sideswipe just snorts and quips, "Just get me the frack out of this hell hole. That's all I care about. I'll worry about you later."

"What about me?" Dealer protests.

"What about you, Dealer?" Sideswipe growls from behind me.

"I want a..." He complains.

I turn around and pop him with my smaller hand held gun. It's an immobilizer and causes him to fall to the ground. He'll be conscious to hear everything but he'll be paralyzed for a while. I prefer him quiet and compliant.

"That solved a lot." Sideswipe adds.

"It did. You're carrying him." I growl.

"I..."

"Shut it or we're dragging your limp red aft back to the ship too." I'm only being this mean because time is of the essence. Well, that and the fact that the twins know how to push my buttons already. It's like having Skywarp around all over again. But he does shut his mouth. I'm the biggest one here so maybe the size is working for me once.

We pass through the doors and move into an adjacent service passageway. There are less defensive sensors here but it's only a matter of time before we have Sentinels all over our afts.

"We go straight through this hall, there will be a lock with a guard, then the hall to the left, when that ends, there will be another lock with a guard, that should open up to a service bay. Once we get through the service bay we'll have to go outside to the landing platform. There is going to be a lot of live fire. I'll contact Hound when we get to the service bay. Hopefully he took off after the alarms sounded. He'll basically land, open up a hatch, we'll get in and leave.

"Sounds like a piece of oil cake." Mirage adds his first comment of the day dryly.

"Will coolant icing, mate." I nod and push forwards to the lock doors. I check inside and see two guards, heavily armed, just waiting. I turn back and signal that there are two. "Wait here until I say clear.

I can only imagine what they hear outside in that hall.

The two guards raise their guns at me but not before both get a knife in their optic. I'll admit it, it feels good to be me for once. Both guards bed over in excruciating pain and I use this opportunity to deliver fatal shots to both. I stop only to collect my knives. I, we, need to get past this point and anything slowing us down is not a good anything.

I walk back to the door and pop my head through, "We haven't got all day. Lets go."

We aren't half way down the hallway when the first wave of Sentinels appear.

"Got it!" Bluestreak yells from beside me. I can't help but stare on in utter amazement as he hit's the first 4, dead center mast, on the first try. It's almost surgical how well he shoots.

"Damn." I blurt out before the next wave appears. I raise both of my arms as my newest gun enhancements courtesy of Ironhide swing into place. I continue to walk down the hall towards the threat, firing away. I hit each one, not nearly as well as Bluestreak did a moment before but well enough that they are down and out of the fight and life.

All of us move forward carefully waiting for the next wave but none come.

Too easy.

The next lock isn't even a challenge as I decide to just level it with two missiles. I enter the rubble strewn room to find the two guards down. Seeing both inactive, I gesture for the others to follow. We are barely out of the room when I hear a small plasma blast behind me. I turn to see one of the guards with smoldering hole in his temple and Mirage standing over him waiting. "What? He moved." the blue and white mech exclaimed to me as I shook my head and continued out to the service bay.

"Stop. Wait here. " I motion for them to halt behind a stack of incoming crate boxes.

"With as easy as this is, you'd think we were actually winning the war." Sideswipe mummers sarcastically behind me.

I shake my head and raise Hound on my secure communications channel. "You there?"

"Yep." I hear on my internal.

"5 mikes and were out."

"Roger."

"Oh, Hound?"

"Yeah."

"Be prepared to land in fire." I smile into my mask as I complete the sentence.

"Will do."

I turn to Bluestreak, Sideswipe and Mirage and explain the next few movements to them, "I'm taking air cover." I smirk. "Blue take left flank, Mirage, right. Sideswipe, you worry about nothing more than getting your black and red aft on that skif _with_ Dealer."

I receive nods of approval and agreement and then continue. "Wait for me. I'm going to make an exit. Run for that skif. Got it?"

Again... nods.

"Good." I stand up and run for the door, launching one missile at it as I do so. The blast opens it up just enough to allow us to pass through. As soon as I hit the outside I take to the air. And watch as they rush to where the skif has landed. My move has diverted attention away from the ground but no sooner do I land then am I faced with an army of sentinels. I bow my head in concentration. Sixteen of them. One of me.

Shit. I launch two incendiary devices that I have on me as a distraction while I contemplate my next move.

I hear the engines power up on the skif and feel arms wrap around me as I'm yanked in. I see nothing but orange and then black I fly through the air into the skif.

"What the... ?!" I yell in surprise as I look up at Mirage smirking down at me as he flickers back into existence.

"Sometimes the saviour need saving too."

Well, I'll be a son of a glitch. Who'd a thought...?

* * *

" I think your bounty hunter days may be coming to a close." Mirage says as I sit down on a bench lining the aft personnel/ cargo hold of the skif.

"Hmph." Bend over and stare at my feet. "Maybe not. You'd be amazed."

"You just broke into Styx the harshest of all the penal colonies and broke, not 1 but 3 known Autobots free. You don't think that's sort of blacklisted you?" He stared me down intensely.

"No. Although, I am sure this means I'll have to do some totally random and inherently evil task to complete for the Decepticons or face some sort of equally random and evil punishment." I mumbled as I sat up and rested the back of my head against the bulkhead. "I need something from you, Mirage."

"There's always a catch..." He snickered, looking way.

I got up and closed the hatch that lead to the main cabin. I leaned against the door and crossed my arms but not before raising my mask and returning to my normal voice.

"No catch. I freed you. Now, I need you to free me in a way."

He pondered my comment before raising an expectant hand, telling me to continue.

"I want a cloak." I said as serious as possible. "Well, I have one. I've modeled it after yours but it's missing something. I don't fully disappear."

"And you want me to finish it?"

"Yes." I sat down on the floor of the skif and leaned my head against the wall.

"Why?"

"Mission essential. All of the manufacturers are gone, as are their plans and designs." I say as I begin to clean the knives used in the battle freeing them.

"Whats in it for me?"

"_Mirage_!" I can't believe the nerve.

"I know. I know. He laughs. Thank you. Yes. I'll help you. You're doing all the dirty work though." He grins

I smile in relief, "Well, isn't that what I'm good at anyway?"

It was a long flight back. But I was grateful for it.

* * *

Everyone was happy.

The twins were reunited. Dealer was unloading a shopping list of info, Bluestreak and Hound kept talking about "the explosions and the sentinels." Mirage had helped me perfect the cloak. We only had to drink about a copious amount of Wheeljack's homemade brew to make it happen. Wheeljack was glad someone could tolerate his concoction without going into shock. And I had moved just one notch up on the trust scale. That's not much though. Not here anyway.

I had been running trials with the cloak all day in my regular mode. It worked fine in regular mode but in my vehicle mode it didn't work at all. That was fine. I really only needed it in regular mode anyway. But I was exhausted. Exhausted for having not done much more than transform a few times.

"It's draining your energy at an increased rate, Enigma." Wheeljack sounded concerned.

"I know." I said with a slight sound of worry in my voice. Even I could hear it.

"What do you want to do?" He asked.

"Keep it for regular mode. Mirage, you don't have this problem do you?" I asked feeling as if I was about to pass out.

"No. But I think you've gotten pretty far considering you have no plans and can only replicate mine." He said over a data pad in which he was engrossed.

"Yeah." I turned to Wheeljack not sure if the dizziness I was experiencing was because of all the transforming, the cloak itself, or the awkward high (?) grade in my system. "I think I'm done."

Wheeljack nodded and helped me stand. "Enigma, what exactly do you plan on using this for anyway?"

A wicked little smile crossed my lips, "I'm going to visit an old friend, Wheeljack." I crossed the room to the door.

"Primus save him." Wheeljack said lightly.

"No, that would defeat the purpose." I said as lowered my mask and felt my way down the hall. "Primus save me."


	6. Soundwave's game

It's been a long time since I got to this story. I finally have an abundance of time to work on it. Hopefully it's getting better. I'm a dialog person but I'm trying to be more descriptive. I decided to work on Enigma's relationship to those around her in specific, her former comrades and her current companion Arcee. Hopefully they will develop on here how I see them in my mind.

Enigma may be angry and confused but she's also hurting. It almost never stops. Imagine what it's like to walk around with a part of you ripped out and a broken mind and all the while trying to survive yourself.

I don't know own the Transformers but Enigma is all mine.

* * *

I had gotten some well needed recharge. My mind was clear and I finally stopped avoiding the messages that were waiting for me.

I walked to the terminal I had erected in the corner of my quarters and sat in motionless silence as I began to check and search through the messages that I had been dreading for a few mega-cycles now. A red marker blinked back at me from the depths of the communication lines, a red marker that had meant the message attached was urgent or at least of great importance to the sender and here I had left it waiting. I laughed silently to myself. The only reason I had done so was because of the sender. I ground my jaw as I clicked on the marker, opening up what I'm sure was a "drink me... eat me..." type cryptic message of which this sender was so fond. That is, if having barely the slightest resemblance to a personality meant that one could be fond of something, specifically a pattern of communication.

The message was precisely that, in it's own wording of course. Soundwave had requested a meeting with me. I checked for any addendums that may had been added since it was originally sent and sure enough, one glared back at me from below yet another blinking red marker. This message congratulated me on a successful mission at Styx requested to meet still, all fallout from the mission aside.

_What is he up to?_ I asked myself. I can't help that curiosity is a huge personality quirk of mine and probably not my best feature. I opened up another tab and sent a message to him informing him to stand by for an open and secure com link.

I stood up from the terminal and pushed the button that would shut it down. Unfortunately, a secure com link would only be available on the main level. Luckily, it was only part of my job description to use one.

I walked out of my quarters and silently made my way to the lift. It was early or late depending on what schedule you usually took. Still internally tuned to a Decepticon schedule, I tended to do my easier work during the later hours. This meant that most mechs weren't anywhere to be found having either left on a mission or be recharging post return. It was silent as I walked down the halls towards the secondary com's room.

This room had been set aside primarily for non-mission essential business, i.e. the dirty work as I had heard Jazz often refer to it.

The door opened to a dark room mainly lit by the holo-vid system in the center. The lone chair was lit from above by a ring of lights and sensors that would capture my image and send it to whomever I was conversing with. A lower ring of lights just below neck level, once adjusted, would project a 3D image of them in front of me.

I saw movement off to the corner and waved my hand for the over head lights to come on.

"Damn, femme. You're blinding me." A voice shrieked out from behind the secure terminal to the left.

"Oh hey, Jazz. Sorry. I need to use the holo-vid." I held up the blue card that once inserted in the holo-vid controller would make it nearly impossible to monitor from the outside. The neutral channels used by bounty hunters were the last secure system left. Well, those and the lines used by the spy sectors.

Nice company, eh? It's no wonder I'm the subject of deep trust issues.

"No problem. It's all yours. I need to go work on the main chair anyway." Jazz said as he walked past me to the door.

"Thanks, Jazz." I muttered as he walked out. As the doors closed behind him, a red light lit telling both myself and anyone on the outside that the holo-vid was in service.

I walked to the chair and said down, taking a moment to adjust it to my height. I pushed hte blue card into the holo-vid's control panel and checked the light above the door. The light turned purple signifying that room was locked tight to allow secure message traffic.

I sighed as the I sent out a cue that would request a response and waited as an acknowledgement glyph stated that in a moment I would be live. I felt my reservoir drop as the ghostly image of Soundwave's face mask flickered into virtual existence before me.

"Enigma." The blue mech's disembodied head nodded slightly as he acknowledged me in his emotionless mono-toned voice.

I spared such respect. Every time I saw him I felt the ghost twinge in my head of what he had done to me in my former life. That psychic attack still fresh in my memory, I put up my own psychic barrier to attempt him from reading me. I know that from this distance it was near impossible but it's good to be in practice for whenever he would be closer.

"Soundwave." I said flatly in my own mono-toned voice. "You requested a meeting with me."

"That is affirmative."

"What do you want, Soundwave? Revenge for Styx?" I growled even though he wouldn't be able to hear it through the modulator. Doing business with him is about as low on my list of things I want to do as anything can get. But my morbid curiosity strikes again.

"Not quite. Have a mission for you. Will leave the details for our meeting. Suspect that you will request a neutral meeting place in a safe zone and will comply. State the time and place. This is not revenge. It is only a meeting."

I glared at his floating virtual head and imagined for a second jabbing one of my knives through it, ripping his mask off and seeing if there were any optics on the other side for me to tear out and smash under my foot pad. I blinked my own optics as I snapped myself back into reality from behind my mask. Missions were usually left through official channels but being as most of the officials left on Cybertron were slowly being found and killed off by the 'Cons, getting internal requests weren't new. Just... not all that good to get. They tended to be more dangerous and illegal. But if Soundwave says it's only between he and I then that means he's up to something. I believe him when he's being sneaky like this since he is using an unofficial path for this request. Things are bound to get interesting and possibly dangerous. For me.

"Zernity Pax, sector 4.232, 2 cycles. Come alone. Leave your miniature army at home." I stared into his image as if I could burn it with my optics. My head burned from the phantom pain of memory.

"Very well." He said cutting the transmission before he had a chance to see the rude gesture I was giving him with my left hand.

"Bastard..." I muttered as I exited the chair and removed my card, releasing the locks. I stood in front of the chair contemplating what I was about to do and wondering how crazy I may possibly after all. My reservoir lurched as I stood in the darkness of the room. Waiting wasn't going to make it any easier. I just had to move.

I left the room and almost tripped over Arcee's small pink frame standing directly in my path.

She lept back with the look of surprise on her face, "Hey!"

"Sorry." I grunted as I slipped passed her.

"Is everything okay?" She said hopping quickly in step beside me.

"No." I pushed on down the hall to the lift so that I could retrieve a few useful weapons from the quarters. "I'll explain in a minute."

She followed as I stalked into the room gathering up the few things I may need that I had left there earlier. I pulled out a synth cloth and then unsheathed a knife. I sharpened it's blade with one side of the cloth and then turned the cloth over to polish the ragged teeth at its tip.

"Ooooh kay. You're going back into warrior mode. Whats up?" She said as she carefully sat down on the edge of a chair.

"I'm meeting Soundwave." I grumbled as I replaced that sword and pulled out the next.

"Primus, 'E. Why? Have you finally cracked?" Her optics looked about to fall out of her head and the alarm in her voice grated my audio receptors and ran my fluids cold.

I looked up at her and glared from behind the mask. I know I probably looked like a mad femme but considering what that son of a glitch had done to me once, I wasn't about to let him get away with it again. Should he try that is. I wasn't sure what I intended to do but being armed to the grille was my best defense. I'd have to play this one by audio receptor and anger was my loyal companion.

"Take off your mask when you glare at me. I can feel the anger and you're freaking me out. " She said pouting as I sharpened and the next blade.

"No. He claims he has a mission for me." I raised the mask and rubbed my optics.

She slid down into the chair and pondered what I had said before speaking. "Okay. You have lost it. You just raided the 'Con's impenetrable penal colony. Killed a lot of them, rescued some Autobots and are probably on every wanted poster from here to Kaon and back and you think that meeting with Soundwave the mind scrambler is a good idea? The last time you came face to face with him during dangerous times he almost killed you and you're risking going back to that?" She looked pissed and hurt.

I was given a second chance at life. I was also given a chance to redeem myself. I've also been given a chance to get revenge. It won't be an overnight thing but it'll come. Even if that means subjecting myself to the threat of further torture at the hands of my punisher's again. So far I have survived them. Granted, that was before I raided a prison but this is a learning process for me. I was crazy. I could see it now.

"Yes." I mutter with no excuse or reasoning attached.

"You're insane." She hisses at me as she rested her hands in her lap. It looked as if she had them peacefully clasped but I could see the tension. It looked as if she was trying to keep from hitting me.

She glared at me with much vehemence. "You're going to end up in too deep with no route of escape. You're going to get killed. Again." I jumped as she slammed her hand down on the table by the chair and glared back at me.

I've only seen her this angry in battle.

"'Cee, I..." I began to plead.

"I'm coming with you." She cut me off without a single falter in her voice.

"No you're not." I start in.

"Yes I am."

Now I'm getting angry. "No. You. Are. Not. No questions. No arguing. You're not getting within a hundred hics of this meeting. I'm not going to risk you getting filleted."

"And what are you doing to do while Soundwave decides to make a coolant scramble of your circuits?" She crossed her arms over her chest and moved to block my exit should I decide to jump for it.

I _had_ thought of that. I really doubt that he'll try anything because _he_ called _me_. He needs something that I guess only I can do. That ought to keep me alive long enough. Plus, it's not as if he has personal quarrel with Enigma. He doesn't know I was Heatseeker. At least I didn't think he did.

"That won't happen." I growl menacingly as I push past her, shoving her out of my way. Theres only so much the tiny femme can do to block me when I'm taller than some of the mechs here.

I see her optics widen at my sudden and direct anger. I hear her whisper as I walk out the door. "E. I hope you're right."

I shouldn't have directed so much anger like her. She is my closest friend and I know it probably takes her an immense amount of self control just to tolerate my indecisiveness. I stop to turn back to her and quietly say, "I hope I am too. Arcee."

I lower my mask and head towards the next chapter in my crazy life.

I wasn't about to walk into this situation without checking it out first.

I circled over and it seemed as if Soundwave hadn't arrived yet. I checked my sensors to be sure and saw no Decepticon energy signatures in the area. I tried to land as silently as possible so I transformed in the air and landed on my feet, engaging my cloak immediately upon landing. Mirage had built the cloak for me with the assistance of Wheeljack. I could only suspect that as a safety precaution for the Autobots, they made this cloak incapable of being engaged while I was in my alt mode. Also as a further safety precaution, it would quickly drain my energy even in my regular robot mode if I was active. I was attempting to stand as still as possible.

I watched carefully as Soundwave arrived and observed him for a few moments before showing myself. He did nothing but I could tell by his body language that he was searching for me. I was sure he was checking his sensors but I ensured that my psychic barrier was up for protection. Good thing I did because almost as soon as I did so, I felt a slight pressure, like a hand pushing a door, on the barrier.

He must have known somehow that I was there because I saw him pause, his back to me. I lowered the cloak, materializing behind him. I said nothing and waited for him to turn around. The fluidity of his movement sent chills through me as he turned my direction to face me. His body language showed nothing. He didn't seem the slightest bit surprised that I was standing two arms lengths away from him.

We both stood facing each other from the safe distance. Two faceless beings staring at one another either waiting for one to move or to say something.

Soundwave smiled beneath his mask. No, I couldn't see but I could feel it. I couldn't understand how but I could. I pushed the barrier up further and he slightly tilted his head. Great, while protecting myself I made my power pretty evident. He must have felt me push back.

"Another telepath. Intriguing." His flat voice said, breaking the silence and drifting over me like a chilling breeze.

I would be lying if I told you that Soundwave didn't scare the slag out of me. I know what he's capable of and this wasn't the well populated fortress in Kaon. There was no audience, here we were alone and he, being a level 5 telepath, could reduce me to a pile of slag just by ripping my level 3 psyche to pieces. I felt the ghost pang in my head and the fear shook me. I managed to keep my reaction totally to myself, though. He didn't move to show any sort of recognition of what was going on in my own mind. So, I didn't answer his statement.

" Why are we meeting, Soundwave? I'm not here to chat." I said keeping my monotoned voice level and flat.

I could feel the smile again and another shudder crawled up my back to meet the pain in my mind. Now that he knew my ability and that I was carefully protecting myself around him, he was entertaining himself by creeping me out.

Great. Here I was thinking that I was protecting myself and all along I was giving away fear.

This time he didn't smile but I felt a mental touch along the barrier. It was as if he was gently dragging a finger down the barrier. This was too much. He was searching for a weak spot.

_Good luck_, I thought to myself behind the barrier.

"I would think you'd have enough mutual respect for a fellow telepath to know when you've gone to far." I said cooly.

I felt his cold touch stop but the invisible, mental smile remained.

"Are you familiar with dimensional compression?" He asked and the smile in my mind disappeared.

Relieved I relaxed a bit," It's a flawed science. Based completely in theory. No working model has ever been successful. " I actually knew a decent amount about it but that was so long ago that I'd have to spend nearly half a day searching my data logs for any info on it. I buried it millions of deca cycles ago.

"Partially correct." He said as he crossed his arms over his massive, flat chest.

I balked at him behind my mask. Our lab had worked on dimensional compression early on before the rebellion but we could never get it to work. I wouldn't even touch it. Soundwave must have seen the shift in my stance.

"The theory has been proven and is still in development. You will retrieve all applicable data and any functioning models to me." I could feel the authority in his voice even though it's pitch never changed.

I had a good idea of why the Decepticons wanted to get their hands on it. Dimensional compression meant smaller everything. Even Soundwave's miniature army would be large in comparison to what dimensional compression could accomplish. This would be a threat to the Autobots. But not if I managed to copy all of the data to my own drives.

I thought about the implications of having it. The Con's could win the war. The only way I could justify this would be by stealing the data, copying it and sharing it with the Autobots. I remained silent while I weighed the options.

"What if I decide not to do this?"

"You will be arrested for your attack on Styx. You will loose your bounty hunter immunity. Your femme pet will be hunted, played with then ultimately destroyed." He didn't move his gaze from me for a moment as he told me.

I stared in shock through my mask,"What femme?"

I could feel the smile creep up on his faceplates and instantly cursed this "gift."

"Your pink Autobot femme companion."

Arcee. Inside my mind, in the very back where he couldn't touch, I felt panic. Then I felt anger. I knew what my former comrades were capable of.

"You will not be able protect her. After you are forced to watch her suffer, perhaps you will be next."

I didn't care about me. Well, okay,that's a lie. I did but I was more concerned about Arcee. Dammit I told her to change her colour. Damned hard headed femme.

I took a step back and felt him test my barrier again. My hand shot out as if to physically stop him from his mental search.

"Stop." The touch stopped again. "Fine."

Soundwave took a step forward and removed something from his subspace where normally one of his little minions would be. It was a data card of a sort that I instantly recognized. It was a key. They were how we accessed certain levels in the facilities. It basically made everything Autobot proof. The data card read Decepticon energy signatures which were different than the Autobots and carried a certain wavelength that was specific to each 'Con.

He held out the card to me and I grabbed it, careful not to touch him. I didn't know what would happen when the card would touch my hand. I carried a fouled signal. It was done on purpose to trick sensors into not knowing what I was. Friend or foe for either side. A true neutral.The small Decepiton symbol on the card glowed yellow as the card's scanner searched my energy signature for authority. I almost dropped it when it turned Decepticon optic red, giving me the authority to pass through the locked areas of the Fortress.

I looked up at Soundwave as the fluids in me felt as if they solidified. I was unsure of what to even think about what this card knew. Something about him shifted and I could almost swear that I could feel surprise radiating from him.

These cards can only be programmed for a Decepticon. You have to have been built as one for them to work. I stared at it with hatred in my Optics. Soundwave took a step back and almost appeared to get a little taller for a moment. His demeanor changed and for the first time ever I heard him speak a non robot sentence.

"I knew it." I heard him say almost so quietly that I had thought I imagined it.

I'm not sure what made me more worried, the card giving me away or Soundwave actually saying a sentence about himself. I stared down at the blasted card and silently cursed it before shoving it into my own subspace.

Soundwave stared at me silently and I felt his mental push disappear completely.

I was a telepath and a Decepticon. Hopefully that's all he know and didn't suspect anything. Even though the card knew that under it all, I was a Decepticon, the energy signature would be unique to Enigma not Heatseeker. I reminded myself that should I need it, to use my gun and not my knives or swords lest he be able to destroy me from the inside out.

"Collect the data, Enigma." He ordered me.

I nodded obediently and hating myself for it.

"Take as much time as you deem necessary. You _will _meet resistance. You can either neutralize it or bring it to me."

I nodded again, feeling numb. "You forgot something."

He cocked his head to the side yet didn't say a word.

"Where am I supposed to find it? Who has it?" I said not knowing where to start.

I felt something shift between us as he took a careful step backward from me. "Starscream."

I dropped my hand by my side.

Slag.


	7. Enigma Faces Her Nightmares

Today was one of those days that I wish I hadn't woken up. I wasn't ready for this but as life always does interesting things, it ensured that a curveball was thrown my way and my choices were swing or duck. I should have ducked. Instead I swung.

Now I waited, as time slowed down to a crawl, to see how far I sent that curveball flying and out of the galaxy wasn't an option.

Soundwave had left me in peace shortly after he told me where to look. I left that place for the tallest structure I could find. I needed to think, something I tended to do too much of. When I thought, things got bad. Maybe, I offered to myself, maybe I should just do for once and suffer the actions after. Hm... maybe not.

I sat perched on the pinnacle of the tallest building left of my surroundings. I hadn't paid enough attention to where I went to care or even know where I was. I dug my foot pads into the still miraculously smooth surface below me and leaned over, feeling the wind brush over my wings and stared into the deep purple and black sky.

I had sent a message to Arcee earlier explaining that I wouldn't be back and not to wait. When all was done, she would hear from me and if she didn't, find a way off of this self destructing lump in space.

I reached into my subspace and pulled out the key. I clutched it between the fingers on my hand and stared at the menacing little symbol on the front. The little bastard glowed back at me in the same red that my optics once glowed. I cursed it and wanted to throw it but I knew better.

My anger wouldn't stop at me. I knew where I stood and that was as a loose end. A neutral and yet I had ties everywhere. The Decepticons would seek out all of my contacts and allies, destroy them and leave only their shattered and energon splattered corpses as a message about what happens when you say, "No." I wish I could say that this was what weighed on my consciousness the most but that wasn't the case. It was the safety of Arcee and the Autobots with whom I had come to see as my new family. A new beginning. Oddly as it was now, they were the only allies I had and I couldn't subject them to what I had once suffered. I couldn't do that to Arcee. The pink femme's spark was in the right place even if her mind often went to darker places. It was that balance that made her the warrior and extremely adept fighter that she was as well as a loyal friend. Even to an undeserving wretch like me.

I allowed my mind to wander somewhere I shouldn't have and I shuddered at the memory of that last fateful night. The unbearable pain both physically and mentally paired with the pain of seeing how my actions reflected on the one mech that I had faith in, then watching him turn his back to let the torture continue. That hurt more than the pain that the others had inflicted on me.

I had prayed for the end. I prayed for death and when it came, I pushed it away. I reminded myself why I pushed it away, I did it because inside of me, no matter how I was made, taught or influenced, I wanted to do what was right. I felt the Decepticons had lost sight of their conquest and had been reducing themselves to nothing more than common, yet extremely violent, thugs. Thugs who were hell bent on creating a world of depravity in which they ruled with twisted scepters of pain. I couldn't bear to do that. Order had turned to chaos and I wanted to restore things to a balance.

Oh, I got balanced alright. I got balanced out into small pieces here and there. A broken body, a broken mind a broken spark mixed with guilt, hatred and the linger thrill of the kill.

I have deep issues that I need to work on but first, I need to clear the way for myself so that I can do that. Ha ha.

I was so deep in thought that I had all but shut out the outside world completely. It wasn't until I heard the sonic crack of Thundercracker overhead that I realized where I was. The sound of him whipping the polluted air around him into submission caused me to blink my optics with a fury that hurt. I startled and looked around. I couldn't help but shake my head in slight disgust when I noticed that I had chosen the tallest building in Kaon to be my temporary resting place. Old habits must really die hard in the incredibly stubborn.

So much for staying low. I'm sure I had gained plenty of negative attention just sitting here. I stood up and looked around me. There was no use in scanning the area. All I would get back is a sea of red, mottled and blending signatures. Basically, a big red blob that was purely Decepticon.

I was calm enough and decided that now was better than never. I transformed and flew off towards the fortress, careful not to be to obvious in my behaviour to an already curious Soundwave whom I was sure was somewhere close, watching me.

When I arrived at the main entrance, I didn't hesitate and look unsure of my actions. Transforming just before touching down, I swiftly moved from landing, to extracting the key, swiping to gain entry and walking in. Hopefully I was nothing more than a black blur. Speed in the air may not be my ally against my foes, but here on the ground, I have the advantage.

I walked into long dark passageway that I had entered so many times before as Heatseeker and now as Enigma and stared the imposing walls down in contempt. My hands felt bound. Again I was under Decepticon control. I felt an anger well up inside of me that I didn't exactly want to control.

At the end of the hall, Soundwave stood waiting. This time he exuded no authoritarian presence. Oddly enough, he casually leaned against the wall and only nodded at me as I approached. He held out his hand in a greeting that made my sensors crawl. Any sort of false nicety from him only made me more uncomfortable. Yet then again, I had never seen this side of him. I think that made my sensors all the more skittish.

"You are familiar with the layout of the fortress?" He asked, not moving.

I nodded in response. He tilted his head just enough to show his slight surprise.

"Including locations of crew quarters, work areas, and such?"

I nodded again.

"You've studied?"

"I'm very observant." I said staring straight ahead, not bothering to turn his direction.

"Then proceed." He raised his hand up and gestured in the direction that I was already headed. Officer quarters. Oh boy.

The hall curved around to the left and I knew the location of every camera, sensor and blind spot in this part of the structure. I checked along the way to ensure that nothing had changed or moved. Lucky for me, nothing had.

Just past Sound wave's view point and before the first door, I reached a blind spot. It was here that I activated my cloak. I had recharged extra long earlier and taken a small energon booster to enable me to use the cloak, that I had bartered Mirage and Wheeljack to make for me, to last for an extended period of time. I could only use the cloak in my regular mode which used less energy.

I stopped at the door I needed to enter. My old quarters. I had installed a bypass on this door very early on. It was tricky and hidden well enough that no one should have found it unless I wanted them to. I reached under the scan pad and allowed a small tool in my last finger to activate the bypass. I have to admit, I was surprised that it still worked. Part of me expected that to have been fixed by the only mech who knew about it. Being as it left no identity to whom entered, I guess it was nice to have around, should it be needed. It was nice when I had needed it.

I entered the room and immediately noticed that it had been stripped down the the bare necessities. Just the recharge bed remained, the table and chairs gone. All marks that someone had been here before removed. I looked out of the window for a split moment before opening the door to exit the same way I had to enter and left without a trace.

I walked back out into the hallway and headed towards my next stop. I was taking a gamble on this one but it was worth it. I stopped in front of the door and spent a moment mentally scanning the area inside. I sensed nothing. Feeling safe to enter I reached under the scan pad and opened this door just as I had the other only a moment before. I was surprised that it too still had its bypass. I hurriedly entered, allowing the door to close swiftly behind me.

When I turned towards the interior of the room, I inhaled long and unnecessarily from my intakes while I looked around. Nothing had changed except for a few items that had been added to include an all too familiar sword mounted on the wall of other war trophies. A single light shown down on them all. At the top was the sword. It was battered but obviously repaired by hand but not my hand as it had been repaired so many times before.

I didn't know what to think as I ran an invisible cloaked finger over the now darkened blade of one of the swords that I had carried on me for over 2 million mega-cycles. The hilt was still red but the paint was chipped from the last battle. Near the hilt were stains of my own energon. I knew this sword, it was the very one that Sunstorm had run me through with. _Of all the damned things to keep...! _

I calmed myself down and moved away from the wall to search the rest of the room. If anything was here, I would find it. I knew every hiding spot in here and exactly how the room's occupant thought. I checked the desk, running through the stack of data pads that cluttered it and found, nothing. Absolutely nothing. I felt my reservoir sink again. This wasn't going to be easy.

I sat back in the chair and tilted my head back against the top of it to stretch my neck lifters when I heard the scan pad beep outside. I shot up out of the chair and into the far corner like lightening across the sky. End game even if I was still cloaked. Time was running down and if I didn't get out soon and return and stop the cloak, I was going to be a very obvious, very vulnerable, black bounty hunter passed out on the floor.

I stood as still as possible as the door opened and for the first time in a long time, I was alone in a room and staring directly into the optics of Starscream.

Only my life could be this messed up.

––––––––––––––––––

If statues could feel, they would be jealous of how still I stood in the corner of his room. Thank Primus I don't need to breathe. Thank Primus that I had enough reserve energy to still be cloaked.

I wasn't scared. I was nervous yes, but I was mostly trying to figure out what the frag to do next.

I watched as the door closed behind him and he raised a hand to his head growling, "Primus, die already you old can of bolts."

I fought the urge to chuckle. Somethings never change, he's still trying to over throw Megatron only now he's become a little bit bitter about it. The moment of humour dissolved as jealousy overcame me. Here he still sat, alive and well even though Megatron was well aware of Starscream's treachery and lust his position yet here I sat hidden, the dark shadow of my former self, for being no better.

Part of me wanted to strangle him, pull the servos from his neck until the lack of power to his processor ended it. The other part couldn't even function. It didn't know what to do.

I remained as still as the ground below us as I watched him settle down.

He walked over to the desk where all of his data pads were and set down another that he had carried in with him. As he tapped away at the screen, he muttered random utterances of hatred towards Megatron and the occasional pledge to someday be the greatest leader that the Decepticons had ever seen.

I silently rolled my optics at this. It'll never happen. Megatron will hold onto life as long as necessary just to ensure that Starscream would never ascend to the throne. The son of a glitch would do it just to irritate him. The old cantankerous bastard will probably have his head removed and added to the mainframe when his end comes just to make sure that Starscream will always bow down before him.

Starscream put down the data pad and pushed it aside. He put his hands in his head and seemed to get lost in thought for a moment. It seemed like forever before he raised his head, wiping his face with his hands and staring off into nowhere in particular. He looked to the right and I followed his gaze as he stared at his trophy wall with the same empty, million klik gaze in his optics.

He stood up and walked over the wall which was directly across his recharge bed from where I was hiding. Curiosity got the best of me as I watched his every move with the utmost scrutiny.

He studied each item as if deciding which was the most interesting. It was when his optics came to rest on my sword that I focused sharply. He reached out and ran his finger along the blade, the look on his faceplates tightening for a moment. When he reached the hilt, he wrapped his hand around it and pulled up, removing it from it's stand. With two hands, one on the hilt and one on the blade, he gingerly held it in front of him. He sat down on the recharge bed still holding my sword.

I wish I could say what was going through my head at this moment but anything of merit was lost behind shock. I closed my own optics and silently reached out with my mind, feeling for what he was thinking.

Pain. Just pain. A flash of memories then pure, intense, anger. It was so strong, so fast, so severe that my optics snapped open and I gasped. I saw his head shoot up. He turned from one side to the other, his optics wide in surprise.

Frag, he heard that. I silently swore to myself but I hadn't expected such a surge. I had reached out a few times since I had been reborn and never had anything strike me that hard.

Perhaps something else had transpired as well for now Starscream stood up and faced the room, backing against the wall and still holding the sword close but in a defensive stance, he looked... well, he looked spooked. Spooked and ready to tear something apart if necessary.

I knew that all he saw was a room empty of anyone but himself so I reached out again and searched him. He had heard me before. Something told me that he had felt me each time I reached out as well. Although he wasn't a telepath, I believed he could but again, how was it possible? I watched as I searched him, mentally approaching him carefully, he blinked rapidly as I lightly touched his mind with my own. I pushed just a little more and then he gasped.

I pulled back a bit and remained just on the edge of his consciousness. This was weird yet interesting. The angry part of me was starting to enjoy itself. I gingerly moved closer with my mind and felt his thoughts until I felt what he was feeling. Anger, hurt, pain and something else. We were feeling the same thing. I saw my own face from ages ago staring back at me and then a flash of what he saw the last time I saw him.

Anger flowed like hot oil through my lines and I fought the urge to mentally berate him. To let all the anger of him walking away from me free. To hurt him the way he had hurt me. Then I saw more. Felt more. I had struck the first. Even though I didn't know it, I had hurt him first. I had dug my sword into him when he found out on those steps what I had done. How I had betrayed him. I watched the tip of the sword drop just a bit.

It was then that I had my epiphany. None of it mattered. It was over, in the past. There was nothing I could do to fix it. To get it back or not. I could only move on from here no matter what had lain in my past.

"Heatseeker..." he whispered in his mind. His optics were closed. Hearing my name pulled me back to reality. I started to pull back from his mind but not before forcing an image into it, that of him walking away. His optics popped open and he gripped the sword so tight that I heard the metal squeal in protest.

"Frag." he swore as he looked down at it and grimaced. He turned around and faced the trophy wall to put it back and I noticed that his right hand shook ever so slightly.

He sighed and walked to the door. I remained as still as the walls around me while he disappeared into the hall and the door closed behind him. I waited a klik to be sure that he wasn't coming back before I got up. When I searched with my mind to see if he was near and saw that he wasn't, I moved to his desk to search the data pad that he had brought in with him.

There were no plans or files on dimensional compression but I didn't find the location of his current lab. It seems that Megatron's pet is now using extra free time to tinker around with old ideas. I placed the pad back where I had found it and shut it down. I didn't want him thinking that anyone was actually in his quarters. I'd rather he be haunted by his own conscious.

I walked to the door and slipped through it like the ghost I wanted to be. Let the cameras catch it. Let him see the recordings and think his quarters were haunted. It would just make my job easier.

I had thinking to do and plans to make. Here would not be the best place for me to do so. I didn't know which way that Starscream had gone, I wanted to go the opposite direction of everyone. I didn't want to move too quickly. I knew that patience would pay off, now I had planning to do.

_____________________

When I began this story over a year and a half ago, I had just finished another about a character that I had loved writing. This volume has been difficult because I had written Heatseeker after I had created Enigma in the time of the movie verse. I have pages upon pages of a unpublished Enigma story written but I wanted to start off from her beginnings hence the creation of Heatseeker. The hardest part has been bridging the two and basically telling the story of how Enigma ended up how she did/will. This volume of the story is not my favourite but I don't want to rush it. I tried a different approach to my story telling by writing this volume from the first person perspective. I just wanted to convey the complex feelings that she has as best that I could.

Heatseeker was an absolute joy and to be honest with you, I really would like to write about her again so if any of you read my first story Enigma: Betrayal's Becoming and really enjoyed the dynamic between Starscream and Enigma, I may be tempted to do a version that takes place even earlier on than the last. ;-)

I will say this, if you enjoyed Heatseeker, then when I get to Enigma's story in our near future then please be patient. I've been writing her story for a year. She is also a reoccurring character in another story of mine Yep, That Mind is Lost.

In the mean time, I hope this story is enjoyable for you and all reviews are appreciated, ideas are even implemented. ;-) Cheers.


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